


Flowers For A Ghost

by wisepuma23



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghost Virgil, I couldn't resist, Infinity War references, It's only mentioned once, John Mulaney References, M/M, MCD for a Ghost AU is pretty par for course right, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Relationship(s), Single Dad AU, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15821019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: Patton swung Roman around. “Who do I love?”“Me,” Roman said as he tried to squirm out of his arms.“Come on, I can’t hear you!”“Daaaaadddd!” Roman groaned, “I’m not five anymore! Put me down!!! Gah, Dad, stop!!!”Patton smirked as he hauled Roman up higher. “I can’t hear you!”“Me!!!” Roman shouted, a smile making a way onto his face despite his valiant efforts. Peals of laughter echoed in the chilled air.Ghosts haunt Patton Love's walls and his twin sons see them. Logan and Roman found it wasn't relevant to mention it since Patton had too much on his plate. Then one night everything changes when they disappear with a ransacked house. Patton has to race against time to find them before something horrible happens. Ghosts are the least of the brothers' problems as they have to run from a crazed kidnapper, fairies who have it out for them, and danger lurks at every corner.Moxiety Ghost AU





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my-happy-little-bean and thesocialbookwormishere!! Both of them have cheered me on so much! It's thanks to their hard work and lots of encouragement that I finally posted this beast on time!

##  **1991**

 

The thunder crashed over the dark mountain road. The stars couldn’t be seen through the dark canopy of storm clouds. Lightning streaked across the sky like whips until the thunder shook the heavens in its agony. The gravel road curled around the mountain like a snake, water ran down the sides until the roads shined with slick. The mountain was more waterfall than dirt at this point. There was a flash flood warning in effect for the Blue Ridge mountain range and its surrounding counties. No one in their right mind was outside in this weather.

A car zoomed past the trees, its light shimmering in the heavy rain, and water crashed in its wake as it raced around the sharp mountain turns.

Virgil took a rare stretch of road to pull down his tie. His silk tie felt like a noose tight around his throat. He blew out a sigh when it hung loose around his neck. God, he can’t wait to get back home. The interview sucked ass. Virgil knew the nice lady said she would call back in a few days, but what if she didn’t? Then he would’ve worn this monkey suit for nothing.

Virgil growled as he yanked up his shirt from its place tucked into his belt, one hand on the wheel still making the sharp turns in the dark and the other freeing him from his tailored prison. His car rattled just under the constant thrum of thunder and rain. He could barely make out the road in the blinding rain. Why did his interview needed to be so far away?

Virgil shook his head as he made another sharp turn, water sucking on his tires; it was worth it. Patton and the kids were worth it.

Virgil cursed as the car jumped over a pothole hard enough that his head bumped into the roof. He just hoped he made it home in time for Patton’s cooking. The smell of lasagna made his way into his memory and his tongue started to water. Or maybe it was cold by now.

His car whistled by on the hard curves. Virgil felt the thrum of the thunder in his bones. His eyes focused on the road; he _wasn’t_ dying on some mountain road like a dumbass. Well, maybe he can put on some tunes. Something to settle his nerves at least.

Virgil looked away from the road and looked down at his radio. He pushed at the buttons, switching from static to static. Nothing but white noise. Come on, come on, get some good ol’ Nirvana in here. Then finally the radio belted out the beginning lines to _Smells Like Teen Spirit._

“Haha yes!” Virgil exclaimed. Then he heard a loud honk and light filled the cabin. His head whipped up and he screamed as he saw a truck coming right at him. Virgil yanked on the wheel and his wheels screeched as he went back into his lane.

“Fuck!” Virgil cursed, then rolled his eyes as he heard the answering honks as he passed. “I’m sorry! Shit, that was way too close.”

Virgil blew out a sigh as he winded his way down the mountain. His nerves were shot all to hell, and the thunder boomed outside. He thought idly that the storm must be on top on him, the lightning and the thunder seemed to arrive within the same second. The storm was gnarly, yeah.

Virgil clenched his steering wheel, trying to let Nirvana’s peeling strums wash over him.

He just needed to get home.

Virgil made it halfway down the mountain when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He slammed down on the brakes and his eyes widened as he felt the sick lurch of the car skidding on the slick roads. His car spun and then slammed into the metal rail and he let out a shaky breath. The radio shifted back to static.

Virgil shakily stepped out of the car and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Rain ran down his face in rivelets as he sloshed his way up the road. There was a bright yellow car wedged in the metal rail, with one edge teetering over the cliff and the other on the road. White smoke curled up into the dark sky. It must be the coolant, so the car won’t explode at least.

Virgil leaned down to look into the windows before yelling, “Hey! Are you okay? Hello?”

There were three teenagers slumped against the seats. Virgil looked up to the rolling sky, fricking teenagers, he hoped his kids didn’t grow up dumbasses like these guys.

“Hey! Wake up!” Virgil shouted. “Your car is on the edge of a cliff! I– I said wake up, or I’m breaking in!” No response. Virgil groaned. “Dammit!! Hold on.”

Virgil drudged his way back to the car and wrenched open his trunk, rummaging in the back for anything to use. He found a wrench and grimaced, but it was the best he had on hand.

Virgil made his way back to the yellow car. The rain bit at his cheeks from how harsh it was coming down now, and he could barely see where he was walking in the storm. He knocked on the window with his wrench, the teens slowly waking up now.

"Come on, wakey wakey!" Virgil said as he tapped on the glass again. "You're going to die in there if you don't wake up right now!!!"

Finally, one of them shook their head and turned to his window. Virgil jiggled the door but it was locked like he already suspected. The teenager, a shaggy-haired boy, screamed as he looked through the front windows. Yeah, looking at certain doom can do that to anyone.

"Wake up your buddies!" Virgil shouted over the roar of the storm. "We don't have all day!"

Virgil wiped rain away from his face as he watched the boy shake his buddies awake in the front seat. He spotted blood on their foreheads; not good. There was no cell service out here either — shit, they had to hurry it up, _shit_.

Virgil eyed the rain beating down on the teetering crumpled hood. It was a miracle that they hadn't fallen down already. He could picture the broken heap at the bottom of the mountain face for authorities to find in the morning.

"Help us!" the boy giggled as he leaned against the glass. "Help us, bunny sir!"

Virgil squinted against the rain. "Are you fucking high?"

The boy blinked back at him. "Yeah, we are, don't you see the cliff? Aren't you high too, Bugs Bunny?"

"Damn kids." Virgil rolled his eyes. "Can you open the door?"

"No," the boy replied as he tried the lock too. "It's jammed! Larry thought he saw something shiny and he couldn't stop himself. We flew. We flew so high. But we're stuck here in the clouds. Can you free us from this metal prison, sir? And please don't tell our parents!"

"I won't," Virgil lied through his teeth. "What's your name?"

"Kenny."

"Kenny?" Virgil confirmed, then tapped on the glass window with his finger. "Okay then Kenny, can you roll down the window? I said roll down the window."

Kenny tugged on the roll but it was, again jammed; like everything else in this situation. Virgil bit back his swears. He didn't want to scare him more than he already was.

Kenny shook his head. Virgil sighed and felt the heavy weight of his wrench. He really didn't have anything else to use. God, he hoped the teenagers weren't such mega dicks that they pressed charges. He couldn't afford it. It was why he was even out here trying to get an interview to get more money.

"Lean back," Virgil shouted, "I'm going to break the window!"

"What?"

"I'm going to break the window!" Virgil yelled again over another clap of thunder. He tugged his grey suit jacket off. His pressed white shirt grew heavy with rain water and he wondered how he was going to hide it from Patton. The thought left as sudden as it appeared.

Virgil shivered as the rain soaked his white shirt until he felt it clung uncomfortably to his chest in seconds. He can handle the inevitable cold later when he wasn't saving reckless and drugged up teenagers in the middle of one of the worst storms this county has ever seen.

Virgil wrapped his suit jacket over his wrench. It had to work.

He roared as he swung it full force at the back window, grinning at the resulting giant spider web crack in the glass. Virgil rolled up his sleeves and worked up the wrench over his shoulder. He swung again with all the strength of a former baseball player. The glass shattered and Kenny's eyes bulged at the twinkling glass in his lap. Virgil tied his jacket around his waist.

"Kenny, well okay," Virgil swung the wrench over his shoulder, "Can your buddies climb over here? Just really gently. I wouldn't want y'all to fall okay. Just very slow."

"Hey, Larry?" Kenny said, then shook his shoulder. "Larry, dude, you need to get into the back seat. Come on, man." Then he turned to the other slumped boy in the passenger seat, "Hey Bart? Stop thinking about Kristina Rogers for one second and get up. Get in the back seat."

"Nngh," Larry groaned, "I'm not getting in the back seat, bro. I don't even like you dude. Well, maybe I will if you stop eating candy. Shit's not right. We brothers."

"Shut the fuck up," Kenny hissed, "we're going to die! We need to get out. We're on a cliff, dude. Like whoa, trippy as hell; so like, we're going to die if we stay here."

Bart shook his head. "S' my dad's car. Can't leave it here."

"I said **GET OUT**!" Virgil screamed. "Get in the back seat now or I'm calling the cops on you. Understand? I'm not joking. Your parents will be here quicker than I finish saying cocaine and hookers. So snap out of it."

Larry and Bart froze at the undeniably adult voice. Good. Virgil glanced again at the mountain and the storm. If it gets any worse then there were no denying that rock slides were going to become a danger. It was just going to happen.

Larry started to climb into the backseat. Careful, careful, his hands clenched and unclenched around his wrench as if it did any good. Virgil wished he had books or something in his car that could weigh down the trunk.

He looked down at himself. Oh right. God, this was so dangerous but he wasn't letting anyone die on his watch.

"Get out!” Virgil shouted over the storm. “I’m going to get on top of the trunk! Go now!”

He threw himself on top of the trunk. The car groaned under his weight, his muscles tensed and his throat closed up. Then it settled.

Virgil shook the sopping wet hair out of his eyes as he yelled over his shoulder to _hurry up._ He could hear Kenny tumbling out the broken window and onto the ground. The car groaned and Virgil felt his heart leap into his throat as his toes left the ground. Kenny shouted at his friends, and one by one, they shoved themselves through the window. Virgil leaned forward — don’t tip back, _don’t tip back_.

The rain whipped his back in harsh sheets. His fingers started to go numb and his chest ached from the abuse. Virgil spat out the rainwater as he waited on the teetering trunk in the roaring winds and rain. Kenny finally hauled Larry and Bart toward the road.

Virgil sighed. Three dumbass teenagers saved at long last. He wondered if Roman would call him a hero. Especially with his cute lilt over his h’s.

Home was waiting for Virgil at the bottom of the mountain. Just another thirty-minute drive. Some cold pasta was what he needed. Yeah, cold pasta sounded great about now. Virgil tipped his head back to blink up at the storm. It was so beautiful out here. Even if it was deadly.

The car groaned as it finally lurched upwards. A scream died in his throat as he realized the car had finally lost it balance on the sheer cliff face. Virgil tipped back, his arms swinging in the air; _OH GOD!_

He felt the empty air at his back and saw the horrified faces of teenagers. Kenny reached out for him, but his eyes were already sliding upwards to the sky. Oh. Oh no no no.

One word rang clear in his mind: Patton.

_I’m sorry._

...

  
The yellow car tipped wheels over hood as it tumbled down the mountainside. Kenny screamed as he saw the body trapped in the tumble like a shoe in a dryer. Larry fell to his knees and puked onto the roadside. His vomit mixed with the rushing rainwater that sucked at their shoes. The storm raged on, uncaring in its wrath, however, the teenagers hadn’t registered it as a tempest. The thunder rang like a gravel in a courtroom that spoke of lifetime imprisonment; the harsh white flashes of lightning similar to the inevitable mugshots. The wailing of the wind transformed into the same eerie notes of police sirens.

God. They killed him. They did, _they_ did, and they didn’t even save the nice man. Not after he saved their lives.

“We….we have to get out of here, man,” Bart said, he pulled Larry to his feet and pulled Kenny away from the edge, “Cops are going to be here any minute. Like wooooo boi, I can’t let my parents know. They’ll kill me, you know? My dad will kill me. Shit, shit, Kenny let’s go! We can take his car.”

Kenny took one last look back and then limped away. His parents would actually kill him if he’s home after midnight.

He looked up at the storm that continued to rage on.

Huh, the weather was real nasty tonight.   



	2. Chapter 1

# 1997

Logan felt the cold tape bite into his wrists and ankles. He couldn’t even cry out when the car went over a porthole. He felt Roman against his back and heard his whimpers just barely over the engine.

He wished he knew where they were going. Their dad had told them enough stories against strangers and even stranger vans.

Roman made a strangled sob, and he felt his heart ache at the sound.

The car rolled to a stop. They were here.

He heard boots grind against the gravel. He strained his ears. Even his brother had gone quiet. He blinked at the harsh sunlight as the trunk popped open. Both of them were kidnapped at nighttime, so it must be more than a day they had gone missing. Papa's anxiety must be through the roof by now. He wished he could see Papa, or Dad again, instead of this musty old trunk.

He couldn't make out the woman that loomed over them. Her face shadowed against the sun, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and she wore a tight top and soldier pants. Her gloves pinched at his skin as he was picked up and thrown onto the grass outside. The fact that his glasses stayed on was a miracle. His face prickled uncomfortably at the little pieces of rock that dug into his cheek; he had a sinking feeling that they weren't in Nebraska anymore.

Roman landed in front of him with a thud. His eyes wide as dinner plates. He'd never seen Roman so scared; not even when they watched horror movies together, or when he broke cups. Logan tried to tell him it was going to be okay, but all that came out through the tape was a strangled whine. It was going to be okay. It had to be.

Right?

"Don't look so afraid, boys," she sang. He paled as he heard the flick of a knife. "You're home now. Your father, _Patton_ , won't ever find you. Where we're going, you won't ever want to leave, capiche?"

She sauntered closer. "It'll be all over soon. Don't worry, you're with me now."

Roman struggled in his bonds, but he was only twelve years old, same as Logan; neither of them was strong like Dad. Logan twisted and yanked, but the duct tape was inescapable. Useless! Logan felt tears prick at the edge of his eyes. He had to help. He couldn't just lie here like a sitting duck.

"Stop it," she hissed. “It’s useless.”

Roman’s scream was muffled through the tape as he was pulled up by the wrists. Her muscles flexed, but he could see that she didn’t even shake. The word _mercenary_ came to mind; ex-military, bodybuilder, weight champion came too. Whatever she was, she didn’t break a sweat in hauling Roman over her shoulder.

She holstered her knife back into her belt with one hand, the other securing Roman. Logan shimmied back from her outstretched hand, but it snapped out like a viper and within seconds he felt her shoulder dig into his stomach.

“I go by Lamia, boys,” she said. “I’m jury, judge, and executioner around these parts, you hear? So play nice or you get to meet my husband, Mister Nexus.”

Roman kicked his legs in alarm.

“Oh, you’re already introduced,” Lamia drawled. “He’s the knife in this relationship. Mister Nexus can get a bit heated when little kids don’t do as they’re told. Especially when they got a mommy waiting for them, who just–” She hissed in through her teeth– “didn’t pay enough to get the 100% guaranteed toes and fingers delivery. So watch it.”

Logan rolled his eyes. He watched the grass below fade to wooden floors. A house then. Lamia thrusted them down to the floor of the living room, presumably by the gritty carpet, and she walked over them and out of their eyesight.

Logan sat up and wiggled his way to his brother’s side. Roman looked up at him with wild eyes. He drew in a breath to scream, but Logan frantically shook his head until Roman squinted at him.

 _Don’t scream, you idiot._ Logan put his bound fists over Roman’s chest, and drew in deep breaths, nodding for him to follow along. _Don’t panic, just breathe, come on._ Roman drew in ragged breaths.

Cool head. He needed to be the cool head in this situation. Think, think; what does he need to do?

Logan’s eyes dropped down to the shiny duct tape around Roman’s mouth. He couldn’t pull it off with his fingers. Logan tried to pull his taped fists apart but it was no use. The duct tape was simply too strong.

Well, there was his teeth. Built-in tools that evolved over millions of years and could tear apart muscle and sinew; duct tape should be no match.

Logan scrunched his mouth against the tape until it was no longer tight against his mouth. He brought up his hands and scrubbed it against his wrists until he could feel it peel off. He sucked in the slobbery tape into his mouth, grimacing at the taste of glue and film as his jaw ached in its efforts to win against the stubborn corners.

Finally, _finally,_ the tape bent to his will and he had a twisted ball of tape in his mouth. He spat it out onto the floor.

“Shush, it’s going to be okay, Roman,” Logan whispered as he leaned his head down to bump against his brother’s. Roman squeezed out a few more tears. Logan could imagine the hot shame that racked up Roman’s body; he hated crying, it was one of his least favorite activities. It wasn’t what a prince would do.

“Now hold still,” Logan said, “I’m gonna take this tape off. It’s going to be really gross, but don’t move unless you want me biting part of your cheek off.”

“MMgh!” Roman growled, “b’tter no’.”

Logan nibbled at a corner until he held it between his teeth. He grimaced at the taste of salty tear tracks on Roman’s cheeks. Ugh, gross. At least it wasn’t snot.

Logan barely resisted a smile as he pressed harder against Roman’s chest. Then in one fluid motion, he ripped the duct tape off. He spat it out onto the floor, and Roman let out a strangled sob. Logan quickly muffled him with his arm and then hissed as Roman’s teeth immediately clamped down on it. Bratty little brother! His arm sparked with pain until Roman finally let go. Logan rolled his eyes at the deep teeth marks. At least it wasn’t bleeding. The older bite on his other arm still bled sometimes. Roman really didn’t play fair during his “duel” games.

“You okay?” Logan asked.

“I’m never growing a beard now,” Roman bemoaned. “Ow….”

“You’ll live,” Logan said as he shuffled back to let Roman sit up. “It’s not like you had any hair in the first place.”

Their heads whipped up when they heard a distant shuffle from outside. Lamia was still out there. Roman turned to him, eyes wide with fear, Logan shushed him with a look. They needed to get out. But how?

The door creaked open and both of them froze at the sound. Heavy boots stomped on the old wooden floors. It was Lamia. Logan saw Lamia walk back inside with horror threatening to swallow him. He watched as her eyes zeroed on to the apparent lack of tape on their mouths. Her lips thinned.

Logan jabbed Roman’s stomach with his elbow and the two brothers turned onto their stomachs and frantically crawled forward. Logan could see the front door was still open. He didn’t care about his skin peeling back from the rough wooden floors. His core was burning, his heart pounding in his ears; and then he heard the telltale _shing!_ of a knife unsheathed from its pocket.

“Tsk, tsk,” Lamia said, her boots loud behind them. “You boys need a lesson.”


	3. Chapter 2

Logan ignored the buzz of fireflies from beyond the locked window as he checked Roman’s bandages for the millionth time. Lamia left a nasty slash from Roman’s shoulder down to the edge of his collarbones. Logan wasn’t sure how many more times he could rip off strips of his own shirt. It was even his favorite Ninja Turtle one.

Logan shook his head; he would do so as many times he needed to — clean bandages were paramount against infection. At least, that’s what he read in his adventure books.

Logan squinted in the near darkness, the moon twinkling in from the window his only light source, it looked like Roman’s bandages were stained black.

“I’ll have a cool scar, right?” Roman said, his smile faint in the twilight. “When we get home, I can get Dad’s cool Batman band-aids. They’re so _awesome_.”

Logan let Roman pull his shirt back up, a red Power Rangers one.

“If we get home. Dad doesn’t even know we’re here.”

Roman’s smile disappeared.

“Don’t talk like that. We can still get home. We have to.” Roman pushed out a tiny smile. “I bet if we wish _really hard,_ someone will help us! They have to. We can’t stay here.”

The room was bare of everything; Lamia didn’t even give them a blanket to sleep on the hardwood floor. Logan had Roman propped up against the wall opposite the only window. A heavy padlock hung from its handles.

The two brothers watched the dance of the fireflies just outside in the yard. Beyond the wild grass was the forest; with trees acting as a dark backdrop for the golden winking lights. If Roman listened hard enough, he could hear the whisper of the cicadas.

“At least the fireflies are really pretty,” Roman said dreamily. “I want to catch them. Can we catch them?”

Logan shook his head. “How? The window’s locked.”

Roman smirked. “So? Vicky out there must be asleep by now. Also it’s dark now, we can go into the forest, and outrun Crazy Cathy and her knife boyfriend.”

“If I remember correctly, he’s her husband,” Logan said. “And Vicky? Really? Lamia’s worse than a sour cartoon babysitter. In fact, she’s the worst babysitter we’ve ever had. And she’s not even a babysitter; she’s a paid kidnapper from our _mom_.”

“It’s called being popular and witty,” Roman retorted. “I can come up with cool nicknames! Even if they aren’t accurate, _nerd._ So find a chair, then I can throw it through the window; I got the muscles to do it, Logan.”

Logan huffed in disbelief. “We go to the same gym classes, Roman. And you’re _hurt._ So forgive me for reading instead of kicking a stupid ball between two nets all afternoon. It doesn’t mean I’m weak.”

“It’s called _soccer_.”

“No, it’s football,” Logan said as he stood up, “everyone else in the world thinks so. And in cause you haven’t noticed–” He splayed open his arms– “there’s no chairs in here! Not even a bed to chain us to.”

Roman rolled his eyes.

“If you’re so smart then you come up with ideas!”

“Fine!” Logan exclaimed.

He looked around the room, but it was the same as it was during the day; nothing to see. Roman watched Logan run his hands over the splintering walls, fingers delicately tracing around the cracks. The faint haze of panic was still at the back of his mind. If he concentrated on it, his breaths start to feel wheezy, and there’s a sharp point of pain between his eyes.

Roman pressed his hand over his shoulder cut deeper, grimacing at the faint squelch beneath his fingers. Logan hadn’t allowed him to move it for anything except to check the bandages. It made him wonder if his brother wanted to be a doctor growing up. It would suit him. A nerd profession for nerds.

Roman wasn’t about that. Handing lollipops to kids wasn’t his picture of adventure and heroics. He wanted to be a prince of a kingdom!! It would be totally radical to have everything he could ever wanted.

Roman closed his eyes in the rustling dark. There was the kingdom’s treasury that held all the world’s gold and treasure from his adventures. Roman imagined walking through the great halls, gold swimming up to the ceiling, and the dragon’s witch’s tusks mounted on the walls. He imagined going home to Dad and giving him a bag of gold from his esteemed vaults. Enough to buy an entire mansion! And all the food in the world. Roman can even buy him all the dogs in the world. Dad would laugh, then cry, and then he would hug Roman tight until he was sure Dad’s glasses would be a permanent addition on his shoulder.

**_Dad…_ **

Roman’s eyes shot open as he felt his shoulder scream with pain. Logan shook him out of his dreamland. Roman blinked back the tears in his eyes; he already cried enough today, he wasn’t going to be a total baby. Logan smirked triumphantly while holding up a thin rod of _something_ in his hand.

“Ow, my shoulder.” Roman glared.

“Apologies,” Logan said (who even says _apologies_ , anyway? Right, only nerds). “But I believe I found a key to our escape from this place.”

“What is that?” Roman reached for it, but Logan held the thing back.

“It’s a hair pin,” Logan said. He didn’t give it back until Roman let his hand drop with a pout. Logan’s eyes sparkled in the darkness as he brought the hair pin closer for Roman to examine. He squinted down at it and he saw plastic rubies at one end of it. He felt his heart drop as he realized they weren’t the first kids to visit this place. “I can pick the lock with this.”

“Damn,” Roman said, “I really wanted to throw a chair.”

“No.”

“Fine, go and do your lame and _boring_ way of getting out of here.” Roman rolled his eyes. “Can you even pick it?”

Logan walked over to the window and kneeled before it. Roman squinted at him fumbling in the dark. The faint clicks of the pin skidding against the lock.

He would know if Logan was capable of picking locks, right? Right? They were brothers for god’s sake. Besides, wasn’t picking locks a goth thing? Wait no, is it punks or those edgy emos that liked to pick the lockers or even the school after hours?

Roman twisted his nose in thought. Logan with bleached spiky hair and squeaky leather pants and big boots doesn’t seem to suit him. Was he a punk in a nerd disguise?

The lock clicked open and clattered to the floor.

Roman’s jaw dropped. Well, he’s still a nerd, even if someday he’s going to have to pick him up from the police station. Roman snickered; Dad would be worried about _Logan_ for a change, but he had a feeling Papa would approve. Papa seemed like he never outgrew his goth phase as a kid. In fact he embraced it. Roman could _never_. Black? Every day in the sun and rain? No thank you.

Even if the nail polish thing punks and goth got to do looked fun. But that wasn’t a prep thing. Roman had an eye on a red letterman jacket at the mall. He dropped hints for it to Dad every week.

Roman felt a stab of pain in his heart as he remembered their birthday was in a month. Dad and Papa told them their birth certificates said that Logan was only older than him by a few minutes in the early hours of a Monday morning.

Logan walked up to him and helped him to his feet with a grunt. Roman pushed him away, growling, “Excuse you!! I can still walk!”

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t say a word. Roman huffed as he clutched his throbbing shoulder. He tried to reach up to open the window but his shoulder screamed in protest. Roman bit back the _shit_ out of habit.

Logan sighed and gently pushed open the window with a light creak. Both of them froze. The house remained silent, and they both sighed in relief. Logan jumped over the windowsill and turned around to help Roman.

“Roman, come on.” Logan said with his arm out ready to reach. “We have to get out of here.”

Roman took his arm with a put-upon sigh. He struggled over the windowsill with one shoulder out of commission. Logan tugged him over with considerable effort. His brother really had noodle arms. It was embarrassing.

Roman finally landed onto the grass with a loud thump. He let out a sharp hiss as he felt his shoulder strangle all matter of thought with just one wrong move. He pressed the haphazard bandages until there weren’t anymore fireworks in his mind. Roman took his hand away to look at it and felt his face pale as he saw his own dark blood drip from between his fingers. It shimmered like red silk in the milky gaze of the moon.

“Roman. Roman!”

Roman looked up at Logan with wide eyes. Logan kneeled in front of him, his hands tight around his forearms, eyes wide behind his glasses. Roman felt like his ears were stuffed with cotton as he looked into Logan’s cerulean orbs. His chest felt tight and his throat closed up. What if they didn’t make it? What if they got chased by bears? What if they got really lost for weeks and weeks? Logan’s eyes held no answers.

Suddenly, Roman watched as a butterfly fluttered in between them. Its wings were a bright electric blue—an eccentric note in the harmony of fireflies surrounding them—and Roman _swore_ he heard a melodious hum in its wake.

Roman put a hand on Logan’s shoulder and pushed himself up. Logan grunted; his eyes weren’t so wide anymore, but they were still keen on his every movement. Roman ignored his worry wart. Like he usually did, anyway.

The butterfly flew through the fireflies, not paying mind to the automatic part of the lightning bugs, and made its way into the dark forest. The fireflies closed behind it like a golden curtain.

Roman felt something nudge at him to follow the butterfly at his very core, and he began to take a step forward. The light was fading among the dark trees.

“Roman?” Logan had the time to ask before suddenly the porch lights flooded the open yard. The fireflies scattered into the starry night. Logan wrenched Roman forward, almost tripping over twigs; he would’ve face-planted if not for his brother’s tight grip.

They stumbled into the forest with Lamia’s throaty shouts behind them like a twisted demon of the night. Logan tugged on his arm toward the road in between the trees.

“No,” Roman shouted, “this way!”

Logan and his noodle arms were no match for his might. Roman frantically scanned the trees for that vivid butterfly.

“There!” Roman ran full tilt, ignoring his shoulder’s cries, and followed the butterfly. Lamia crashed through the trees behind them like the Terminator, though his focus on the butterfly overrode everything; including the sensation of his heart slamming the gas into overdrive. Blood rushed in his head and from his wound.

The butterfly delicately flew into a small cave squeezed in between a fallen tree and a boulder. Moss had grown over the structure, and if not for the butterfly, Roman would’ve looked over it. Logan turned around and pushed himself in front of Roman. Lamia’s red face was like the sun in a world of grey and blue. Logan held up his shaking arms, fierceness written into his frame, and god he was going to be a _troublesome_ punk.

Roman yanked on his arm and onto his knees. “This way!”

“Are you insane?!”

Roman crawled headfirst into the tiny cave. “You got any more ideas, freaks and geeks?”

Logan muttered to himself but crawled after him. Roman felt the cold rock hug around him and the moist dirt beneath his palms. There was a painful snap of pain every time he moved his right arm forward, but he ignored it. His coach always said “no pain, no gain” and they needed to get out of here.

The ground tilted downwards beneath them with only the flickering blue light of the butterfly to guide them. The roof dropped lower and lower until they had to crawl on their forearms. Gravel bit into Roman’s arms as he felt the ground tilt down until it was a steep incline and the only reason they didn’t slide forward was the firm dirt beneath them.

Then a roar echoed down the cave.

“Lamia,” Logan whispered, then shoved at Roman’s shoes. “Tell that butterfly to hurry up already!”

As if it heard his words, the butterfly stopped, and the melodious hum grew louder and its wings brighter. Roman squinted against the glare, but he knew his brother was right. Lamia was squeezing herself down into the cave behind them. Her yells and the skitter of Mister Nexus against the rock echoed in the cave like a ghost from the future. The future of their demise.

Then with a pop and a fizzle, a swirling blue vortex came into existence, the butterfly floated into it. It shimmered with odd colors and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

Roman’s eyes sparkled.

“Magic….I knew it!”

“Wait, Roman!”

Roman crawled into it and disappeared. Logan reached for his ankle but it was already gone. Out of his reach. Logan felt his nerves skitter, the cold cave walls pressed at him, and the vortex an inexplicable force against science as far as he knew.

Lamia let out a guttural scream; “I’m going to _fucking_ kill you, you goddamn shitheads!”

Logan flinched; there was no other exit. He had to go into the magical vortex of doom.

He squeezed his eyes and crawled forward into it. He didn’t notice a rope had looped around his ankle. Logan felt a strange buzz around him, like he was stuck in a plasma ball, and before he could register the sensation fully, there was a drop. Logan screamed as he fell through the darkness. The rope followed him into oblivion, and its human passenger, then there was nothingness.

...

The vortex popped back out of existence. Mister Nexus, its blade still slick with a boy’s blood, had a rare opportunity of loneliness as it sat in the dirt.

It did not know it would soon become a widower. It didn’t know anything. After all, Mister Nexus was the inanimate tool of Lamia’s destruction in her mercernarial past.

Yet it thrummed with only the presence a tool of suffering could give. It was best left forgotten in a cave. The moon sat in the sky and turned her eye away from the silence of the forest below.


	4. Chapter 3

“Good night!” Patton called out into the dark Blockbusters. “See you tomorrow, Tony. Tell the wife I said hello!”

“Will do!” Tony said as he worked on closing the register. Patton walked outside into the warm night air. The streetlights buzzed and he could hear the ever faint flutter of moths underneath. The neon blue Blockbuster sign lit up the parking lot. He always parked underneath the sign so that way, he never lost it; it was genius!

His pale yellow Chevrolet was all the rage in the last decade, but now it was dated with garish scrunchies and shoulder pads. His kids thought it was an embarrassment, but he thought it was cool! Virgil thought so.

His mood dropped, then he shook his head; it’s been six years.

Patton turned the key until the engine came on with a growl and peeled out of the parking lot, driving through a ghost town at ten in the evening. He hated taking late shifts like today, but Tony said no one else could take it. He just hoped that Logan wasn’t still awake.

His feet ached something fierce and promised himself to run them under cold water when he got home. It was a home remedy for sore feet. They were great.

The old pines grew taller into the sky and the bushes more wild as he drove into the more decrepit part of town. Hastings was a nice town in Nebraska, Patton thought — it was only an hour and a half drive from Lincoln, the capital. He moved away two years ago. He couldn’t take seeing all the empty places where his husband once stood, walked, and laughed with him.

His hitch in his breath as he drove past _that_ mountain.

Not too long after, he pulled into his driveway to notice that none of the lights in the house were on.

Patton frowned; huh, that was pretty weird. Roman was afraid of the dark and always insisted on having one light on, no matter how many times Logan told him that monsters aren't real.

Patton turned the car off and picked up his old lunch bag from the passenger’s seat. The keys jingled in the lock before he realized the door was already open.

He nudged it further open with a creak. Suddenly his heart fell down to his shoes, his throat closed up, and tears pooled in his eyes. Patton felt his instincts go wild like the fourth of July. Something was wrong.

Patton slammed the door all the way open and ran inside. He felt anxiety tear his stomach to ribbons.

“Kids?” Patton shouted, his vision tunneled down, knocking over lamps and books, “Kids? Logan! Roman!”

He saw that their bedroom door was open; oh god no.

“Answer me—”

Patton crumpled to his knees in the mess that was once his sons’ room. It looked like a tornado had gone through it; or rather, that there was a struggle. Astronomy and fairytale books laid open on the floor, and the ceramic mermaid lamp was in pieces. He could see in the near darkness that it was flecked with blood. The door had been shattered from the outside.

“No! Please no!” he wailed.

He shouldn’t have taken tonight’s late shift.

“I’m sorry! I’m _sorry_.” His heart was pounding. “God in heaven, what do I _do_?”

He tried to stand up, but his knees were still weak from shock.

Coming to his senses, he whispered suddenly to himself, “Police. I need to call the police. They’ll know.”

Patton gasped as his heart in his chest turned to burning ice; fear so potent that choked him until he was hyperventilating between his knees and against the carpet. It almost felt like someone was squeezing his heart with horribly cold fingers. He was having a _panic attack_.  Patton knew the signs but he had never experienced a panic attack in years.

Oh god! _I can’t breathe! I_ **_can’t_ ** _breathe._

“Stop, stop, _stop._ ” Patton squeezed his arms around himself. “One, two, two–” He gasped in a breath– “three, four. One, two, three, four…”

Patton finally came back to himself after a few minutes. He needed some coffee. Yes, coffee. Or even some tea!

Patton stood up on shaky legs as he saw stars dance in front of his eyes. He winced and rubbed his temple. His head still felt faint from his panic attack, his second one ever. However, the _first_ one had been way worse; it had happened shortly after he got the call about them finally finding Virgil’s body. Patton had passed out on the hook.

Patton shook his head and shoved his bubbling upset to the foreground.

Patton flicked on a light switch to the hallway and gasped. He felt the throes of panic eat at his heart again as he took in the horrific sight. There _was_ a struggle.

Patton whispered counting under his breath as he came closer to the dark purple wallpaper. The walls were oozing with blood.

 _What the heck?_ He reached out and touched the dripping blood; _ugh,_ why was it so **warm**?

Patton squeaked and wiped his hand down his cargo pants, before rushing to the kitchen and picked up the landline off the hook.

“Operator,” he said hastily into the phone, “patch me to the police _._ ”

He twisted his fingers in the white coils as he waited. Pick up, pick up, pick up —please.

Patton took a look around the kitchen and his hand flew up to his mouth to muffle his gasp; all the kitchen cabinets were _torn_ out of their places. Their doors hung off hinges, and Patton felt his breath hitch as he saw knives and forks embedded into the walls. Like someone threw them there. The strength to do that…it was terrifying.

He eyed the gorges left by the cutlery and shoved away pictures of his late bills and estimates of renovations. Patton didn’t care if he lost everything; he had to get his sons back. God, they must be so scared.

“Yes, what’s your emergency sir?” a man answered, snapping Patton out of his trance. “Sir? Sir, are you there? What is your address? Are you alright, sir?”

Patton opened his mouth to reply when his eyes fell on something standing opposite him. His breath froze in his throat. Bone deep, primal fear seized his bones.

The sound of the dial tone cut the operator off. The phone clattered to the floor.

There was a ghost in the kitchen.

A ghost. And not just any ghost, it _was—_

No. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

There was no other reason than to explain his **_dead_ ** husband standing right in front of him.

Virgil wore a rumpled suit and he was faintly transparent like ghosts were wont to do. He also had an ethereal purple glow to him.

Virgil stepped forward and Patton couldn’t help his stumble backward into the counter. Virgil winced.

“Sorry about the mess,” Virgil said as he glanced around. “I kinda uh freaked.”

Patton shook his head. “You’re not real. I can’t have a breakdown right now. My kiddos are out there and god knows what’s happening to them—”

“Patton. Look at me.”

Patton buried his face into his hands and turned around. It sounded just like him. Down to the little warble at the end. It’s been six years, but he didn’t know his memory was this talented. He couldn’t even remember what he ate for breakfast this morning! This can’t be real. No, no, no.

Patton felt his tears well up behind his hands. This was too cruel.

“It’s me. I’m _real_. I pictured this with more screaming you know, but I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I’m just glad that you can see me. Finally.” There was a breathless giggle behind him. “It kinda sucks when only your sons can see you. And they don’t even like Pink Floyd.”

Patton whirled around in a blur of motion and tears to hug _Virgil_. His purple eyes widened in surprise and his arms opened instinctively.

The crash against the kitchen island wasn’t what Patton expected.

He looked down at his empty arms with fading purple mist. What…?

“Sorry,” Virgil said as he faded back into existence on the other side of the island, “I’m not really supposed to be on this plane of existence. So I can’t hug anything from here. We’re like oil and water like this.”

“Oh.”

“There’s so much I want to say.” Virgil fiddled with the ends of his slightly wrinkled jacket.  “Like I was dumb. Really dumb. I just wanted to make things easier for us. I didn’t mean for things to go so wrong. I was going to tell you.”

Patton let out a bitter laugh. “Tell me? It’s been _six_ years, I don’t want to hear it. If you know where our— _my_ kiddos are, I’ll consider it, but the way you were found was damning enough.”

Virgil flinched at his acidic tone.

“Patton,” Virgil said, his purple eyes, no longer a natural brown, were haunted as he whispered. “I _tried._ I tried my damnedest to save them.” His eyes brimmed with his tears. He raised his hands, as if expecting to be shackled. “But I couldn’t. Not without hurting them. She was going to _kill_ Logan and Roman.”

Virgil trembled before him, his bangs obscuring his pale features, and Patton’s heart twisted. It was his husband, but he could he really call him that? They had the vows _until death do they part,_ but it felt wrong to call him by any other title.

A memory flashed of their wedding day. Virgil wore a suit a better one than he wore now, his waist a few sizes wider than the skeletal torso he died in. There was a purple rose pinned on his lapel and his smile was blinding in the soft sunlight of the dance hall during the reception. They had danced for hours.

Patton twisted the old ring on his left hand absently.

“Do you know where they are?”

Virgil’s head snapped up. “Uhhh– I mean yes! Yeah, I have an idea where they are. They’re in Wyoming, specifically Yellowstone Park, but that’s as far as I got. I’m not good at witchy stuff, cause I’m you know, dead.”

“How did you…you know what? Never mind.” Patton walked into his bedroom, with Virgil trailing after him, “I’m going to change! We’re leaving in ten. Okay?”

The door slammed in Virgil’s face before he could say anything else. He frowned.

“....okay. Got it. Crystal clear. You’re welcome.”

Virgil slid down until he sat on the floor. Why was Patton so snippy? He knew his body logically didn’t look pretty—being crushed to death by a pothead car can do that—but still.

Virgil swallowed thickly; he tried for six long years to be seen by Patton, but now that he got it, Patton didn’t even want to see him. The fucking irony.

Virgil shifted uncomfortably where he stood; as much as the suit he bought at some thrift store was starting to irritate him, it felt wrong to take his old wedding suit out of the closet. Looking back, maybe he should’ve worn it — then he would’ve lived his afterlife in rare luxury instead of looking like some poor rumpled accountant. He was a house husband, for _god’s sake_. Accountant was so far from the mark; he was so _sick_ of everyone ruffling his hair and asking for help on cosmic taxes.

Virgil sighed as he looked around the ruined house; expending this most energy _exhausted_ him. Edginess took power, yo. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and wake up ten days later.

“Let’s go,” Patton said as he suddenly walked past him. He discarded the faded blue Blockbuster’s uniform and black slacks. Now he wore a simple dark jacket with red and blue stripes over the shoulders with a black undershirt and jeans belted around the waist. His collar was popped open and sleeves rolled up haphazardly, his heavy white sneakers a soft whisper on the thin carpet. Wow, even his jean cuffs were rolled around his sneakers. Patton meant business when he dressed this good.

Virgil snapped out of reverie and followed his husband, glancing at the dull ring that rested on Patton’s left hand. He still can’t understand why Patton hasn’t thrown it away yet.

Virgil twisted his own ring absently outside of Patton’s line of sight.


	5. Chapter 4

Logan woke up with a groan. He heard the soft rustle of grass and the gentle hum of the wind. Were they still in the forest, then?

Logan opened his eyes and let out a strangled gasp. They were in a purple prairie; the grass a pale lavender that stretched for miles around, and the moon peeked over the horizon.

But wasn’t that incorrect? Logan remembered that the moon had sat high in the sky before, right?

Logan made to sit up but face planted into the blue dirt. Blue dirt? What was this place? He felt a tug on his ankle and paled as he realized a rope was lassoed around it.

His eyes followed the thick rope until he saw its passed out owner, _Lamia._

Logan screamed, but he had quite literally reached the end of his rope. He bent down to tug at the thick knock when suddenly, the grass suddenly rustled to life.

Logan yelped, his actions speeding up. The beast came closer and closer, and Logan felt his nails crack as he scrambled for a loose thread in the noose. He kept an eye on Lamia; her ponytail was almost undone, but her grip was tight even in slumber. He realized she had somehow tied one end of the rope to her wrist. If only he taken that wildlife camp; it was a shame that Dad couldn’t take anymore shifts that summer.

The grass rustled and he heard a distant growl. Logan’s heart leapt into his throat as he yanked on the noose even more. The knot didn’t come undone. More twigs were broken under the beast’s feet as it crept closer. This had to be it. The beast was close enough that Logan could hear its heavy breathing. Then everything went eerily quiet. No doubt about to pounce. Logan closed his eyes preparing himself for—

“Logan!” Roman burst through the tall grass with a raised pointed stone. “Are you alright?! Back up fiends!”

“Roman!” Logan panted, “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Roman smirked but made his way closer to Logan.

“I was wondering when you would wake up. I was getting worried.”

“Can you help me with this, at least?” Logan tugged on the rope again; he felt faint stinging underneath, no doubt bruises. “I rather not stay with ‘Vicky’.”

Roman took hold of the rope and started to saw at it with the sharpened piece of rock he held.

“I don’t know about Vicky anymore,” Roman pondered. “I kept thinking about it. How about Black Widow?”

“Black Widow?” Logan wrinkled his nose before looking down at the rock his brother was holding. “And where did you find that?”

“There’s a stream right through there.” Roman pointed over his shoulder. “The water is really warm and clear. I can see right all the way to the bottom! It’s gorgeous.”

Logan squinted at Roman. The moonlight here in this strange place was unusually bright. He suspected the grass and the dirt and everything here had an innate glow to them; like they were phosphorus — but he didn’t know if rocks and dirt glowed like they did.

Roman’s features looked sharper and more alive in this humid night world. He looked so different, but why?

That’s when it hit him.

“Your shoulder!” Logan said. At this exact moment, the rope snapped loose, and Logan fell back onto the soft grass. He looked back up at Roman and his shoulder. “It’s healed. But how? I don’t understand.”

Roman leaned over him, his head against the dark canvas of stars.

“I don’t know,” Roman admitted. “When I woke up, it was almost already gone. So this must be a magical realm. Nothing here is right. Even the stars look weird.”

Logan stood up as he brushed a hand over his temple. “My headache...it’s gone. But this doesn’t make any sense.”

“Listen, I want to talk about everything, but how about we get away from Miss Billie over here?”

Before Logan could say anything, Roman pushed him through the grass. Logan heard the faint bubbling of a stream. Huh, his brother was right. The purple grass parted before them to reveal a stream as blue as a robin’s egg. It also held a brilliant radiance eminenting from within the tranquil waters. Logan was entranced by the faint dark shapes of fish at the bottom.

“So how do we get home?”

Logan snapped out of his trance to look at Roman, before answering, “I…I don’t know.”

“You _must_ know,” Roman said, frustrated. “You’re a nerd. You read books all day— including those nonfiction ones that no one ever reads in the library except nerds. And you do that for _fun._ ”

“Well, logically it should be _you_ that knows!” Logan snapped. “You read fairytales and other fantastical nonsense like this! I mean, what’s next? Talking animals that conveniently help us home?”

“I could help.”

Logan and Roman yelped before focusing on a fish that broke the surface of the stream. It was a rainbow trout, yet the scales shimmered strangely. It’s eyes were milky white and floated in its sockets. Logan bit back an _ugh_ but Roman let it escape. He felt his hair bristle as he _knew_ that the fish now paid attention to his brother, despite the lack of pupils.  

Roman kneeled down in front of the fish. “How can you help us?”

“You’re two lost kids looking to get home?” the fish whispered.

Roman and Logan nodded.

“Then follow the stream down until you enter the realm of the Fae Prince,” it said.“There will be three moons and the sky an orange you’ve never seen.”

“A fae prince?” Roman said excitedly. He stood up and bowed to the fish. “Thank you for your advice, kind stranger!”

Logan tugged on Roman’s sleeve. “But isn’t it better to stay in one place? Then Dad can find us easier.”

“Lamia can find us easier, you mean.” Roman tilted his head toward the direction they came from. “We can’t stay here. And princes always help their subjects!”

“We aren’t his subjects. We’re American citizens.”

“Oh poo!” Roman said sarcastically as he flicked his hand. “How do we even know Dad can find us here? We can see ghosts and he can’t. Maybe we have something that he doesn’t and that’s _magic._ That means it’s on us to escape because Dad isn’t coming.”

“But what about Papa?”

Roman froze, and his face flickered through several emotions.

“He’s stuck with Dad isn’t he?” Roman finally said. “He told us that wherever Dad goes, he goes too. Papa can’t find us.”

The fish gurgled again, snapping them both out of their memories.

“You have strange heritage. You are both sons of the Sun and the Moon. How?”

“A son of the Sun?” Logan asked, “What do you mean? We are Virgil and Patton Love’s sons. Unless you’re about to tell me a terrible pun, I don’t want to hear.”

“I want to hear the pun!”

“Of course you do,” Logan muttered.

“The sun here, in this realm of magic, is the beacon of The Good,” the fish explained, its voice a mix of melody and song. “The Good shines on everything real in the giant miasma of existence. This is the place of images. A mere shadow of the multiple worlds, including yours, an imitation that mutates and changes. Ephemeral and fleeting as water lilies, but not even that; we are the reflection of the flower. No substance—no soul—exists in us creatures here.”

Roman found the words to answer first. “So we need to find the Sun? Back to reality, then? Then we can just walk until morning comes.”

Before the fish could answer, Logan cut in with more questions.

“Hmmm, wait then how does the Fae Prince help us?”

“He holds The Sun in his hands.”

That was all the fish said before slipping back under the water,its rainbows scales twinkling until it became too distant to make them out. Roman saluted the fish one last time. Logan felt something twist in him at the fish’s odd behavior to help them so readily. It was almost suspicious. Like a giant bully standing by his locker suspicious.

“Something fishy is going on here, Roman.” Logan said as they followed the stream, “Why did it help us?”

“Nice!”

“I– No, you _know_ that’s not what I meant!” Logan flared his nostrils. “Should we really try to find the Fae Prince? It seems awfully convenient.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, brother!” Roman laughed as he tugged Logan along. “Come on, this sure beats getting kidnapped and hurt. And don’t you want to go home?”

Logan sighed.

“Of course.” Logan gave in as he let himself be led. “Fine, but I swear if either of us gets cursed, I’m blaming you.”


	6. Chapter 5

They weren’t here. Virgil had kept Patton awake all through the night on the drive to Wyoming. He followed his scrying instructions to the _letter_ and even if he wasn’t a witch—he was a ghost—he had some sway over the accuracy of it.

Patton drank coffee on the breakfast table of the creepy cabin Virgil’s magic had led him to. Here, off some dirt road in a probably illegal area to set up residency. Okay not probably, _definitely_ illegal. Virgil paced in front of Patton’s bleary eyes.

“They were here!” Virgil protested, “But something is jamming it up. It’s like, it’s like they aren’t even on the same _plane_ as before. Oh god, I hope they aren’t dead. I can’t--”

“Virgil, deep breaths,” Patton said, his voice deep like its been dragged through gravel. Just hearing that early morning voice _directed_ at him made Virgil’s belly flip, even if he had none. The edges of his form flickered as he took in breaths he didn’t need. He had to beat back his anxiety so he couldn’t fail again; he couldn’t afford anymore failures. It was his own fault for dying when his family needed him.

Patton took another loud slurp from his coffee; no doubt made from the backwash of some gas station employee and rotting beans.

“So you said that Lamia mentioned their mother?” Patton yawned. “But they don’t even know her. Neither do I. She just left them on our doorstep with their birth certificates.”

“But why now?” Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “You’re the only one who actually knows her. How was she like?”

Patton’s face darkened.

“I…I don’t want to talk about that. I wouldn’t put kidnapping past her, if you get my drift.” His voice grew tense. “I don’t ever want to see her again.”

“Patton.”

“What?” Patton slammed his cup down on the table. “What do I even to say to them? ‘Oh yeah I met your mother at some frat party at the edge of town’? ‘And then before I know it, I drank something weird– ’” Patton yanked on his hair in all directions with white knuckles– “God it was so _stupid!_ I didn’t even know anyone there! That I woke up with bruises and vomit? I don’t regret my kids, but sometimes I wish I had more time to be young, you know?”

Virgil hunched into himself.

“Sorry. Yeah, I remember I had to come and pick you up that morning. You just...never really spelled it out like that to me.” Virgil scratched his nose as he avoided Patton’s piercing stare. “I didn’t know, Pat. I’m sorry.”

Patton shook his head. “Well, death can put a lot of things into perspective.” He sighed. “I’m sorry too. I just wanted to tell you since I never got a chance to. But still, I know it was hard to hear.”

Silence hung between them. Too many unspokens were stuck in the crevices of their relationship kept them from ever stitching up its wounds. Virgil swallowed thickly; he just needed to find their kids, and then they can talk. _Really_ talk.

Patton stood up and crumpled his cup and threw it into the trash at the door.

“What if they ran away?” Patton asked as he stared at the wilderness beyond. “I know Logan and Roman are pretty smart! Besides, her car is still here. They must be close. But where?”

Virgil passed through the wooden walls to stand in the yard. He stared into the open maw of the forest. Hmmm, it _was_ likely.

He pressed back images of Roman’s tear stained face before disappearing under the click of the trunk. Logan’s screams as he fought to the very end. Even when Virgil tried his best to shout reassurances as the car drove away, he was ultimately forced to choose to either follow them or wait until Patton to get home. A ghost—even edging on poltergeist, like Virgil was now—was no match for a beating heart and a real body.

Patton tucked his hands into his jacket pockets as he came up next to him. Virgil hummed in acknowledgement. Patton blinked up at the noon sun and into the dark woods. It seemed to suck all sunlight away like a black hole.

Virgil drifted forward; maybe he could ask the “residents” in it, if they saw his boys? It was worth a shot.

“Patton,” Virgil said, Patton snapped to attention behind him. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t worry. Just stay here so I can find you. I’ll go ask someone if they saw Roman and Logan or if they know where they are. Just stay here so I can find you; I’ll be fine.”

“Wait, Virgil!” Patton reached out for his husband, but he had already faded away. Patton dropped his hand.

The crickets were loud in the sudden silence. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself as his bones shivered.

Patton whispered to himself, blinking back tears, “Don’t leave me here. Please.”

+++

The rain pattered heavily on dark umbrellas as a quiet dirge. Patton looked at his husband’s grave through the blur of tears. _Virgil,_ god; why was he out that night?

His sons clutched his hands as men lowered his grave into the earth. Patton’s voice was steady as he said his eulogy. There was time to break down all over again when he got home.

“I’m really sorry,” his mother told him, her dark hat shadowed the pity in her eyes. “If you need anything, just give us a call, okay honey? Your father will be happy to hear from you.”

“Thank you,” Patton said. “Really, so much, I can’t…” He squeezes her cold hand. “Thank you.”

“Dad?” Logan tugged on his coat as his mother walked away. “Why does everyone think Papa is gone?”

Patton blinked down in surprise, then took a breath, and kneeled down. He stared into their eyes; they were only six, far too young to lose someone. Roman’s breath was frozen and his nose red, Logan his twin, looked the same.

Patton took their hands.

“Listen, kiddos, your father is gone now. He’s…” He struggled to find the words. “He’s in Heaven now. Virgil, _Papa,_ is happy there. Okay?”

They looked behind him, Logan tilted his head. “Heaven? Is it here?”

“What?” Patton said. “No honey, Heaven is a place up in, uhm, in the sky; somewhere among the stars. It has everything you could ever want, so Dad is happy there, and he’ll be watching over us. From above. He’s always with us–” His finger bumped their chests– “in our hearts.”

“So he goes to a place that makes him the happiest?”

“Yes, Roman.”

“Oh.”  Roman broke out into a gorgeous smile, and Patton’s eyes burned again. “He’s here then, with us, because he’s happy.”

Patton’s answering smile was tight, as if grief weighed down the corners. But it was the first real smile he’s had in the past four nightmarish days, so he tapped both of their button noses. His smile grew as Logan hissed and pushed his hand away as Roman giggled, trying to bite his finger.

“Let’s go home,” Patton stood up and held his sons by the hand, “It’s been a long day. A really long day. God…”

Behind them, a shadow stood by the tree that loomed over the fresh grave. It was a man in a rumpled business suit; his shirt was untucked, and his hair unruly. His eye bags as dark as the dirt over his grave. For a flash of moment, his pale temple dripped with red, and his white shirt was a big spot of red.

Then it was gone.

Virgil gasped in breaths and counted to four until his hands stopped shaking when Roman looked back at him.

Virgil waved with a soft smile. Roman beamed with a large smile and almost falls out of Patton’s grip by the excited waving he’s doing. Logan turned around, his smile is smaller, but Virgil knows to look for it in his son’s eyes; Logan wasn’t as loud and brash as his brother.

Virgil didn’t really believe in God, but if the Big Man didn’t step up, he knew Logan will. If Roman ever got into trouble, Logan would be there in a heartbeat. Brothers until the end.

Patton turned around, and looks around the empty graveyard. “Did you see someone?”

“It was Papa,” Logan said, and then let out a whimper when he felt the answering crush of his hand; “Ow, you’re hurting me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Patton let go, and then wiped at his eyes again, “I’m sorry, little bug. I didn’t mean to — I overreacted.” He swallowed thickly. “Papa isn’t here, okay?”

“But you just _said—_ ” Roman said, his voice rose dangerously into a temper tantrum.

“I know what I said.” Patton rubbed his nose under his glasses. “I meant here as in, our hearts, that’s all. He’s here in our memories. But he’s in Heaven now, kiddos.”

Virgil wanted to tell Patton everything he should’ve said, before that stupid fight. He can’t just _leave_ like that. It was wrong. _Virgil_ was wrong. He didn’t want to go to some place where they didn’t even have Patton or his sons there. It was ridiculously easy to tell the Reaper to fuck off. All he got in return was “Your problem now, bub.” and left in a plume of smoke.

Virgil watched them walk back to the entrance before taking a step forward. Then another step. He took in a breath he didn’t need and forced another step. His feet screamed at him to walk back to his grave, back to the light; anywhere than this plane that they call existence. No, that was exactly that the point. Virgil knew _personally_ that living was hell; he couldn’t just walk away, he never could. It wasn’t in him.

Virgil had to protect them cause no one else would.

And so he followed them back **home,** and Virgil started his long vigilance.

++++++

Patton slept on the threadbare couch with a dusty quilt he found in the closet over him. The sun twinkled in through the windows and his glasses were folded on the floor. He huddled further into the musty sheets.

His face had smoothed out wrinkles in sleep; his worries didn’t sit on his brow as he dreamed of sugarcane and honey. There was only the faint whisper of the trees outside and the distant roar of a car rushing past every once in a while. Patton snored with a faint whistle.

Suddenly, the yellow curtains rustled with someone’s arrival. Patton shivered in his sleep and pulled the blanket higher to his chin. Pale, ghostly hands tucked him in. A rare and precious smile grew on Patton’s face; the kind that only came after seeing a double rainbow after rain. Patton’s face shone like the sun just from this once familiar gesture.

Virgil kneeled down next to him, leaning over pressing the faintest of kisses to his brow. Patton’s skin was chilled from the colder Wyoming air. Virgil knew Patton wouldn’t wake, he never did; he just couldn’t touch ghosts like Roman and Logan could.

Virgil tucked a curl away from Patton’s face with a faint smile of his own.

“I love you, my dear.”

Patton awoke an hour later to distant singing. He sat up with a yawn. Patton smacked his lips and picked up his glasses from the floor. He wiped the lenses on his shirt before he put them on. He scrambled through the house to follow the off key singing. Is it...above him?

Patton walked outside into the chilly afternoon air.

“Virgil!” Patton shouted. “Get down from there!”

“I was wondering how long you were going to sleep. You were taking forever," Virgil said as he sat on the roof. "I went through all ninety-nine bottles on the shelf and then I sang the cherry pop song. My boyfriend's name begins with S. And then I started with the entire Disney anthology."

"Wait, don't you need jump rope for the cherry pop song?"

"So?"

Patton tilted his head.

Virgil smirked at Patton's expression. "Speaking of impossible things; I talked with some of the ghosts here in Yellowstone. There's more than you think — if I haunted this place, I would move on ASAP; the people here aren't exactly uh...all there. Not great company and talked in circles a lot."

Patton stepped closer. "And what did they say?"

Virgil jumped off the roof to stand in front of Patton.

"They saw them." He grinned. "They saw them! I know where they are, Pat, but well..."

Virgil’s smile dropped as he trailed off. Patton frowned.

"What?"

Virgil worried his lip. "I was right. They aren't on this plane. They aren't in a higher one like me, but a lower one isn't much better. I can get us there right now, but I just wanted to warn you. Lower planes are just…plain weird. Think, _Alice in Wonderland_ mixed with Pink Floyd’s album covers and you’re about right.”

Patton nodded his head.

“I can do this,” he said firmly. “Just take me to them. We’re getting them back home no matter what.”

Virgil blinked.

“Okay, but when the portal opens, I want you to reach inside first. Don’t worry, I’ll take your hand, and don’t let go. You got it? Don’t let go of me.”

“Aye aye!”

Virgil concentrated and the faint purple glimmer he wore grew in brightness. His purple eyes shone eerily as his hair floated up into the hair, crackling with power and magic.  A loud hum filled the air. Virgil's feet left the grass floor as Patton's hair whipped in the sudden wind, and with a pop, a purple vortex appeared behind Virgil. It swirled angry and violent with streaks of purple and black.

Virgil gasped and fell down to his knees.

"Are you alright?" Patton cried out as he instinctively reached for him.

"I'm fine, Pat." Virgil gave a tired grin and stood up with a stretch. "Just follow me, okay?"

He started to walk back into the portal with his hand out to take. Patton followed him, trying to grab Virgil's hand, but his hand went through it anyway. Then Virgil came to a stop with both feet inside the portal and his torso outside.

Virgil opened his arms with a nervous smile.

"Run at me. I promise I'll catch you. Hold onto me tight, okay?"

Patton didn't wait for Virgil to finish as he ran full tilt at him. He jumped into Virgil's arms and, for the first time since he saw his husband, he felt _real_.

His strong arms squeezed him around his torso; Patton would recognize his soft hands on a corpse in the city morgue. The shape of his dead husband's smile against his neck.

Suddenly, Virgil tilted back into the portal and Patton didn't expect the crushing darkness on the other side. Patton's scream was swallowed by the roar of their fall into a new world a layer below their own.

Patton woke up with a gasp.

The first thing he noticed was the soft chest beneath him and the smell of old pasta. A hand ran through his curls.

"Just breathe, Patton. You're okay." Patton let his head fall back down. It was just Virgil. It was just Virgil…

Patton felt tears brim at the edge of vision. How many times has he woken up in a cold bed wishing it was just Virgil next to him? He buried his head into Virgil's warm neck as he sucked in deep breaths. He felt hot shame burn at the nape of his neck as he clutched to his husband for dear life.

"Virgil," Patton hugged him as he sobbed, "it's _you_. It's you, I– I can't believe it; but it's really **_you_**.” Patton sucked in a deep breath and broke into a shaky smile. “Golly, there's so much I want to tell you. Or ask you. This entire time I thought this was just some lucid dream or that I was finally off my rocker!"

Virgil sat up. Patton didn't let go, but instead sat up with him.

"Didn't I tell you already at the start?” Virgil returned a small smile. “It's me. I know I'm more emo than you last saw me, but it's still me. It just means I don't need to dress up in cut-up bed sheets every year for Halloween. I get to save my ghost dollars."

Patton’s smile faltered.

"Virgil, I just have one question. Why did you—"

Virgil's head snapped to attention to something in the distance. Patton made to ask again, but Virgil held up a finger and a stern look. Patton's face fell but decided to wait to ask later after this entire thing was over.

Patton used this opportunity of silence to look around and his jaw fell open. Golly, Virgil was right. It wasn't the afternoon anymore; now the moon sat on the horizon, and they sat in an open prairie of purple grass and a sky with too many stars.

Virgil pulled Patton to his feet.

"We can't stay here for too long. Something is wrong. We have to stay close together. I know you hate me for leaving, but please just bear with me until we find the kids again, okay?"

Patton pulled Virgil into a tight hug and rubbed his tears away on his musty old suit.

"I could never hate you, Virgil Love."

Virgil let out a big sigh and his shoulders relaxed as he hugged Patton back.

"Never ever?"

"Never ever. Not in a million years. Even if...you find someone else to love."

Virgil's eyebrows drew together at that strange statement.

"Patton..." He pressed a hand to his wet cheek. "What do you mean?"

"I...."

"I said what do you mean? There's no one else I love."

Patton took a big breath; _here goes._

"Do you remember how you died?"


	7. Chapter 6

There was three moons in the sky now. Last time, there was six; and before that, it was two; and before that...well, Roman forgot.

The sky had strange streaks of red and purple like a sunset, but the sun had already long dipped out of view before the brothers stumbled into this new world. They still followed the stream, but the grass changed colors with each new world, and it was fun to see Logan confounded by the illogicality of it all. But at least they agreed on one thing; there was always no sun no, matter how much the sky changed. Just moons and comets streaking the sky, and perhaps a rare galaxy or two.

“How do we know we find the Prince?” Logan asked. Roman rolled his eyes.

“Obviously there’s going to be a castle! Princes come in castles! And do you see any? No. So _logically,_ we have to keep walking!”

Logan muttered to himself, “Getting more lost more like.”

Roman parted the tall stalks before them to reveal the stream parting to a great ocean that stretched to the horizon. There was a castle in the distance, its shadows hazy in the early twilight; and a boat shuttled along the mossy shore making its way to them.

Roman turned to Logan with a smirk. Logan adjusted his glasses. “That didn’t work the other seven times, Roman. I don’t know what you’re so pleased about.”

“Come on! It totally worked!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “We might as well wait for the boat. There isn’t any other way to make it across this sea.”

He sat down on the soft, peach colored dirt and crushed the black grass stalks underneath him. Roman huffed and sat down next to him. They waited in silence for a few minutes. The boat puttered down the shore, it looked like an old timey steam boat from Roman’s history class, and it had golden lights strewn along its roofs.

“Uuuggghhh!” Roman groaned. “This is taking forever!”

“Don’t say it.”

“Boy, I sure hope a—”

“Roman, don’t _say it._ ”

“I thought you didn’t believe in magic?” Roman said with a shit-eating grin before continuing, “I sure hope someone helps us!”

Logan and Roman scanned the waters. There was nary a bubble.

Logan grinned while Roman groaned louder, falling onto his back and staring up at the stars. Was it too much to ask for more talking animals? Maybe even an animal companion! Like in the movies.

There was a soft thud next to him. Roman turned his head to see Logan—his twin, his mirror, his brother—staring right back.

“Why are you so excited to see the Prince?” Logan asked. “I wished that we stayed where we were. There was only one moon there. Now everything is so strange and it scares me. This isn’t my world.”

Roman blinked, and then turned over to face Logan.

“What are you talking about? Of course it’s not our world! It’s something else! And isn’t that exciting? I thought you liked curiosities?” Roman broke into a wide smile. “Who walked around with a magnifying glass at the ground until you nearly walked into traffic, like, several times before Papa stopped you? Who buries their nose in books even when while they’re eating? Huh??”

Logan’s lips quirked with a faint tug.

“I seem to recall that I wasn’t the only one curious.” Logan looked up fondly at the sky. “Do you remember that you used to drag me to bike out around the neighborhood with your friends? We found frogs down at the creek and you smashed rocks just to see their stunning crystal guts. Although, you always made it pretty clear that I was even lucky to hang out with your cool friends since I was a _nerd_. Then you forgot me completely when we entered middle school.”

Roman felt his heart pang as he realized Logan wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He was a shit brother, wasn’t he?

Roman plucked a grass stalk and started to fidget with it as he mulled over his thoughts. The filament was coarse as steel wool; it hardly felt organic as a real plant, but it was so easy to tear apart into pieces.

He _had_ forgotten Logan. Well, he thought the nerd had enough sense to find his own clique of friends already. Where were the pocket protectors to tell Logan that he was a good little square? That he made perfect A’s and wasn’t it pretty clear to everyone that _Roman_ was going to be the forgotten brother someday.

“Logan,” Roman started, and then wrinkled his nose as he paused. “Were you really going to fight Lamia back there? I was a sniveling coward and you were reckless. You just became everything you accused me of being; reckless, brave, and stupid. I couldn’t even stop crying to help you punch out the tail light. Mr. Bittenbinder would be disappointed in me.”

Logan blinked.

“Yes. I suppose that’s true.” His brows drew together in confusion. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. I felt...angry–no, angry isn’t the word I’m looking for. Wrathful is too formal, choleric is far too obscure. Uhm, throw me a word, please?”

“Livid?” Roman said, matter of fact.

“Yes! Livid, thank you.” Logan swished the word around in his mouth. “I felt _livid_ that she would hurt you. You’re my brother. Plus, you’re everything to Dad; you laugh at his stupid puns even when you think they aren’t funny. _Especially,_ if they aren’t funny.”

Logan shrugged, pausing for a bit.

“I just wanted you to be okay.” Logan’s smile grew. “Besides, it’s a fact that older brothers protect their younger ones.”

“By like a few minutes!”

“When I was your age…”

Roman laughed and pressed Logan’s face away.

“Shut up!” Logan batted away Roman’s hand as they laughed in the dark grass. Logan really was something, huh?

Logan yawned and almost knocked his glasses off as he rubbed his eyes. Suddenly, they heard a loud horn blare; it was the ship.

Both of them scrambled up and blinked at the sudden appearance of a dock that wasn’t there before. Roman shook his head and grabbed Logan’s hand to pull him down the wooden pier.

Roman bounced on the balls of his feet. “It’s almost here!”

“Yes, I can see that.”

The boat puttered to a stop in front of them. A plank threw itself from the boat to the dock, and Logan pulled Roman out of the way in time to make way for the exiting passengers. They weren’t any creatures that Logan has ever seen or read. They all slithered with dark shadows with a giant blue stone for an eye. Each of them were ultimately flat and looked like a wave crest with no depth. Their eyes didn’t blink as they stared at the brothers before turning away and disappearing into the black grass of the beyond.

Logan’s grip tightened on Roman’s bicep. This wasn’t his world.

Roman tugged him along to board the strange antique boat. The other passengers sat silently inside, and Logan chose to sit on a cold seat underneath a window. The not-sunlight twinkled in from the windows and cast the blue stone eyes that watched them with an eerie glint.

Roman didn’t bother to sit down like a civilized person and instead jumped around looking out the windows. He didn’t pay the strange passengers any mind.

“Roman,” Logan called. “You have to sit down. Stop bothering the..err...other passengers with your antics!”

The boat rocked gently on the sea. The unearthly silence was broken by Roman’s excited comments.

“Ooh! There’s a hill over there!! I can see it!” Logan could hear Roman exclaim as they bobbed on the current. He closed his eyes as he leant his head back and bumped it gently against the window. The rolling motions of the boat made him sleepy. It was just so...peaceful.

Roman laughed obnoxiously somewhere outside. Logan’s eyebrows pinched together. Well, _almost_ peaceful.

+++

Back on the now-distant shore, the grass rustled with new arrivals. Virgil parted the grass with a glare towards the stalks as if they personally offended him, and Patton swatted away flies with a yelp.

Virgil bit his tongue from telling Patton that it was fairies that he was swatting. Let him be. Besides, fairies were little shits in his experience.

Patton tied his jacket around his waist in the spring air of this place as Virgil squinted into the distance to see a boat disappearing into the mist of the sea.

“We missed them. Shit.” Virgil frowned, adding, “That castle looks ominous as fuck.”

“I didn’t even know you could fly,” Patton said, still faintly green. “Can ghosts do that? How? And why can’t we fly over to them right now?”

Virgil rolled up his sleeves.

“You get magic when you linger on the wrong plane long enough.” He glanced at Patton up and down. “Give it a few days. Your eyes might glow too when you think hard enough. And we have to wait for the boat to circle back.”

Patton frowned. “So we can’t fly, or even swim?”

Virgil sighed before leaning down to pick up a rock from the beige colored dirt and then threw it over the dark blue water. Immediately the water rushed upwards like a sentient monster and sucked it down into the depths mid-arc. Patton stepped back from the mossy shore, his eyes wide. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Any big place of water around on this plane? Drowning pretty much guaranteed. One hundred percent of time.”

“That’s…”

“Fucked up, I know.” Virgil shrugged. Most rules of fairy tales usually are. He remembered the many nights of reading Roman to sleep with them. The Disney versions of course. Even if he had to bite back his own tirade on the darker messages hidden in them. The bright light in Roman’s eyes wasn’t something he wanted to crush with his own cynicism. Ever.

“Virgil,” Patton said tentatively, and Virgil could see him wringing his hands just at the edge of his vision. “You know we still have to talk about...you know.”

Virgil tensed. “No. I _don’t_ know.”

Patton sighed, almost exasperated. “I-I’m sorry. But it’s true. I saw it with my own eyes and I couldn’t believe it myself!”

Virgil turned onto him with a snarl. “I would never _ever_ cheat on you, Patton! I was your house husband _and_ your roommate before that! I chose to stay home and take care of the kids. You think I’m going to throw _sixteen_ years worth of love for _you_ down the toilet?” He shoved his hands into his suit pockets. “I had a crush on you since high school for god’s sake! When I first realized that I was in love with my best friend, I cried out of _relief_ , because I didn’t want it to be anyone but you!”

Virgil wiped his nose loudly. “I don’t know what you _thought_ you saw, but it wasn’t real. I wasn’t– I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t only be a shitty husband, but a shitty friend too.”

“That still doesn’t explain the woman that died next to you. And the fact that you were in _her_ car, not ours; and that your car was found abandoned overnight at some restaurant?” Patton stepped closer and then tugged on his suit as he added on dully, “Besides, you always wear something nice for a date.”

Virgil grabbed Patton’s hand as he looked down. “I said for the tenth time. It was for a job interview. I wouldn’t lie to you about this, Patton. I’m already dead. There’s _no point_.”

Patton pulled his hand away. Virgil stepped closer, but when Patton held his hand up, Virgil stopped. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he stood there tense in the soft crashes of the sea against the shore. Patton blinked upwards at the three moons.

“Did….did Logan or Roman not tell you? I know they _hear_ rumors, and they don’t always tell me stuff, but how come they didn’t tell you?”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair.

“I think it just never came up,” he said absentmindedly. “I just took care of them as I always did while you were gone at work. I barely had any power to lift a fork, and they were the only ones I could touch and hug. Roman was very happy about still being able to get his hug every morning before school. And even if I couldn’t lift a pencil–” Virgil quirked a smile– “I still helped Logan with his homework.”

“You were still there this past six years?” Patton said quietly. “Oh _Virgil_ , honey, why?”

Virgil’s face crumpled. “I couldn’t just leave you a single parent with two kids.”

“So you think I can’t do it? Is that it?” Patton glared at him with angry tears. “I did just fine without you! I took on two jobs, made kids lunch everyday, and dinner when I got home. Logan is fine. Roman is fine. We are all just fine and dandy. Both of them are the sweetest boys I’ve ever known. Lord help those who dare stand in their way when they grow up.”

Patton turned away with his head in his hands. Virgil stared at him with a pitiful kicked puppy expression. Great. Just great; when he finally has the chance to physically grasp his husband, Patton doesn’t even want him.

Virgil scrubbed away his quiet tears against his sweaty forearm. He could see the faint lights of the boat coming back. The sky had darkened considerably during their wait, and there was the distant sound of croaks and the splashes of unseen creatures in the waters.

Virgil looked up at the three moons hung in the sky like three beautiful apples on a celestial branch. He missed his own moon back on Earth. Not this uncanny mirror of other worlds.

Virgil startled as he felt a hand twine into his own. He turned to look at Patton who gave him a weak smile, even through the clear pain in his eyes. God help him, he really wanted to kiss Patton; kiss him like they were twenty again. When Patton could laugh without hurting himself on his own broken glass.

++++

Lamia watched the boat leave with her paycheck. She snarled; she’s been following those boys for a good while, but now she had to wait.

The tall grass itched against her skin as she stood there watching the boat disappear into the mist. If only she had her knife; then she could tear these irritating plants apart or fashion a boat of her own.

The tranquil stillness of the lake broke as something sliced through the surface. Lamia stepped back, allowing the weeds to shadow her as her eyes watched with hawkish attention. It was a tiny paddle boat with sails that looked like sewn together bed sheets. A small creature with a face that looked like a pinched piece of dough steered it. She had never seen anything like it.

Lamia looked at the sails and calculated how far the boat treaded from the shore.

Looks like she was hitching a ride.

Lamia smiled and stepped further into the tall grass until she disappeared with nary a whisper.

 


	8. Chapter 7

The boat puttered to a stop by the docks, the metal planks sparkling as it caught the moonlight. Roman gasped in awe as he took in the sleekness of this new country in the nether world they were trapped in. The castle loomed above the busy docks and the town further in. Red spires tall enough to poke holes in the sky the color of a mottled orange tabby.

Roman giggled as he pulled Logan past the shadowling passengers and into the crowds of the docks. His eyes couldn’t stay still on each new sight. The shining spires golden in the waning sunlight. The fairies and creatures that skulked about with the smell of mildew and sweat in the air. Jewelry sat on merchant stands, a necklace of lapis lazuli, a bracelet of jasmine, a gremlin bumped him and he lost sight of them. This was amazing, a new world, and a castle! With a prince! He had to go meet him. A real prince in person!

Roman ran headfirst into the town with his brother groaning behind him. Bah! He had no time for whiners. Didn’t his brother know that there was an actual prince to see? And maybe there was a sword in a rock! What if he pulled it from the stone and then he could be a prince too! Imagine the shock on his brother’s face!

Roman let out a laugh as they slipped between the soft wings of the fairies and the portly bellies of the goblins.

There was a clamor up ahead near the castle gates. A crowd huddled around a steel stage, glittering like diamonds, and there was a man at the center of attention. A golden crown with three rubies, which caught the light of the three moons, rested on his brow.

Roman grinned; it must be the prince!

“Who else?” Logan rolled his eyes next to him. “It’s not everyone who gets a crown like that; unless it’s from Burger King, and it’s made out of plastic.”

Oh, he said that out loud, didn’t he?

“Yes, yes you did.”

“Stop reading my mind, you fiend!” Roman dropped Logan’s hand like a hot potato. “...You don’t happen to have paper on you? And a pen? Scratch that, I just need the pen, it’s not like I wash my forehead that often, right?”

Logan sighed. “I have a pencil but it’s broken and I wouldn’t even give it to you. You’d stab yourself with the lead and I don’t want to hear Dad’s disappointed lecture, okay?”

“You, Logan Love, get lectured?” Roman looked him up and down. “What do you even get lectured on? For reading books too much?”

“No.” Logan crossed his arms and didn’t look at him. He said quietly, “You haven’t been paying attention anyway. You’d just forget about it when you got more important things to worry about. Like your friends and your soccer team. You got your life, I got mine.”

Roman shoved at his shoulder. “Oh whatever! Mister Cool and Mysterious, spill! You’re the least interesting person I know so tell me!” Logan’s shoulders were so tense that they were up to his ears as Roman spoke. “What, is my own brother keeping secrets from me?”

“Roman,” Logan started to say, before being interrupted by a loud cheer from the crowd. Lights boomed on and centered onto the prince. A band played in the background as the fey threw roses at the prince’s feet. His smile was bright enough to be the sun in this moonlit place.

“Ladies, lords, and nonbinary royalty!” the Prince said. The crowd hushed to hear his buttery smooth voice. “Behold! Tonight, I bring you again a piece of the sun!”

“The sun?” Logan frowned. “It’s a ball of gases, and it can’t be divisible into pieces, besides you’d burn up long before you can touch it.”

“Shut up, _nerd._ ” Roman hissed out the side of his mouth as he bounced in excitement. “It’s magic. You and your science ramblings don’t mean anything here.”

Logan didn’t say anything in response to that.

“But first! I’ll need someone from the audience!” the Prince shouted. The lights swept over the exuberant crowds, feys pushing and shoving each other to be in the limelight. Roman could see that the lights were focused towards the center of the crowd rather than the back where he was. He bounced and waved, but no light swept over him. They were simply too far back.

That wouldn’t do!

“Roman!” Logan called after him as Roman squirreled himself into the crowd. “Come back!”

Roman charged forward into the crowd, blatantly ignoring Logan’s pleas behind him. The lights stopped on him with eerie precision. Roman blinked hard against the harsh lights as he heard the crowd roar and then shove him towards the front. He heard his brother call his name again from a distance; but before he knew it, he was thrusted onto the stage with the Prince beaming down at him.

The world slowed down. The Prince bent down and held his hand to pull him closer into his spotlight. The roars of the crowd faded away. Roman couldn’t take his eyes off the shiny prince, his white suit and red sash glittered with jewels. Starstruck, he felt the Prince’s gentle grip on his hand. Roman felt the heat of the lights on his face as he looked up into Prince’s crinkled eyes that shone with a thousand colors.

“What’s your name, little one?” the Prince asked, his voice twinkling like wind chimes, and Roman felt like there was a frog lodged in his throat. He couldn’t speak. The Prince chuckled, a beautiful little melody of notes.

“My name is Prince Thomas,” the Prince continued, “but it’s fine if you want to call me Thomas. Are you alright?”

“I, uhm–” Roman’s face went red as he realized his hands were clammy and gross.

Prince Thomas laughed. “Uhm? Is that your name? It is an exceedingly simple name but I like it. It’s a name fit for a boy from a faraway land.”

Roman wrinkled his nose. “Really?”

Thomas burst into a giant smile and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. Prince Thomas could tell him he was a dorky nerd and Roman would wear pants up to his waist and giant glasses happily if it meant if he saw that smile again.

Roman nodded his head. “Yeah yep! That’s me. My name is Uhm.”  
  
Thomas squinted at him with a thoughtful look on his face. “You come from a faraway land; does this land perchance have a sun?”

“Y-yes!” Roman said. “Of course!”

Thomas smiled, amused.

“I can see it in you. It seems that you hold a piece of that sun with you everywhere you go. But–” He poked at his chest with a crackle of magic– “why not let it out?”

Roman gasped as a bright light came out of his chest. His eyes widened as it emerged. No way; it was the sun!

The lights dimmed until the stage was dark, except for the ball of light that Roman carried. Was it his soul that his books talked about all the time?

Roman reached out, and as he touched the light, Thomas’ voice faded away

_Patton laughed as he threw Roman high in the air. The wind whistled in his ears as he flew, if only for a moment._

_“Higher, higher!” he shouted. Roman felt giggles float out of him like bubbles. His father threw him over his shoulder and Roman let out a shriek of laughter as his whole world turned upside down._

_“Dad!” Utter glee sat in his chest; like a fresh, warm donut with sprinkles._

_..._

_The glow of Virgil’s ghostly form glimmered as he sang a gentle lullaby after Patton already tucked him in. The loud clamor of the stormy night lost its roar as his dead father ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, his fingers a cold balm._

_Roman drifted off to sleep as Virgil bent down to kiss him good night. His lips whispered an “I love you” over his skin._

_..._

_Logan held his fishing rod over the still pond with his pants rolled up to ridiculous lengths. Round glasses slipped down his button nose in the overcast spring day. Roman sat down next to him as Logan thrust a bowl of worms at him. His twin was too squeamish to put them on the hook ends. What would he do without Roman, anyway?_

_Logan gave him a small smile; he never could bring himself to say thank you, but Roman knew it. Roman pulled his brother into a headlock as he grinded his worm gut covered hands over Logan’s face and laughed at his shrieks._

Roman blinked back his welling tears, and then looked up at Prince Thomas. “Why does it hurt?”

Prince Thomas raised an eyebrow, as if this was an odd question to him.

“Does it really?” He frowned. “I didn’t know love could hurt, little Uhm, but it usually does quite the opposite! I’ve heard many tales of it from the realm far above. You have love, don’t you? In your land?”

Roman stared down at his sun; was it love?

“We do,” Roman tried to explain. “But I don’t have it right now. I’m trying to go back home to my Dads. They have lots and lots of it! I don’t think it’ll ever run out, to be honest. But uh–” Roman felt the sting of tears again– “I just really miss it. I _miss them_. I miss my Dads,” then Roman brightened and looked up to this shining prince before him, “But you’re a prince! Can’t you take us home? Me and my brother? You can do anything you can set your mind to, right?”

Thomas looked at him stunned. Almost taken back by Roman’s confession. Then the expression was gone. The prince smoothed down his white suit with rainbow lining as he turned to face the captive audience. Faces that clung to every word, gasp, and glance the prince sent their way.

Prince Thomas clicked his tongue. as he muttered to himself

“Um, not really part of the script,” he muttered to himself, “but I can work with it!” He then spoke louder as he stood up, “Friends! I shall bring out the sun! The real sun!”

He bent down and whispered to Roman, “Best that you put that out! Wouldn’t want to outshine the literal sun, you know?”

“O-oh! Okay!” Roman said, then grasped his ‘sun’ again, biting his lip against the sudden rush of memories that battered at his heartstrings. He tugged it back into his chest until it was gone. Prince Thomas smiled down at him in approval.

The crowd hushed in anticipation.

Thomas beamed and with a fluid change of hand, a beautiful orb of golden light appeared delicately in his hands. His mouth dropped open in an ‘O’ of awe. The whole town was dark, the lights were dimmed, and sunlight shone onto the dirty faces of fairies and gremlins alike. All of them were still for one moment to behold a piece of the sun, turned up to it like sunflowers, and Thomas let out a musical chuckle. The silver moonlight above was washed away by the golden beams of the shining sun.

“Why don’t you hold it?” Thomas said, and then dropped it into Roman’s hands. He flinched, but no burn came. “Behold the sun!”

 

Roman couldn't tear his eyes away from the ball. Thomas went into a speech about the light in everyone, but he was quick to tune it out; it sounded like the drivel his teachers said back home. Adults liked to say life lessons, but he didn't pay attention to them.

Then Roman realized something odd. He rolled the ball around in his hands to be sure...

 

It was plastic.

 

He knew what plastic felt like. And this was it. Roman spun it around and his eyes drew to a black button on the bottom of it. He squinted against the glare, but it wasn't a trick; the fabled piece of the literal sun was plastic and it had a button.

Anger rose up from the core of him, Prince Thomas was a liar!

But...but Princes weren't liars! They were beacons of light and justice and righteousness! Lying was wrong!

Red edged into his vision as his blood boiled. Prince Thomas– god what a joke; he wasn't even a prince. How could he just LIE to him? How could he trick everyone?!

"Uh, kid, you feeling alright?" Thomas asked out of the side of his mouth, then at Roman's silence, Thomas turned his head away from the crowd. "I'll need that sun back, maybe it's too much for you...after all, it is the sun!" He laughed.

Roman felt every tinkling note of that wonderful laughter like a slap to the face. His shoulders shook with the force of his anger that welled up in him. It drowned out everything. Including that distant voice of reason that sounded like his brother. He had to _do_ something.

Roman pressed the button. Silver light spilled out instead, and Roman finally realized that it was a prop for both the sun and the moon. _Liar._

The crowd screamed. Thomas paled and reached down to grab the sun/moon, but Roman yanked it back with a glare. The prince stepped back, his legs shaky, and then turned around to the jeering crowd.

"Looks like the human world is trickier than I thought!” He shakily smiled. “I shall tell my father, the King, that I'll go and get a piece of the sun myself! Do not worry!"

"Liar!" Roman shouted.

Thomas flinched and forced a laugh. "Don't listen to the boy, he doesn't know what he's saying or know anything about this place. Isn't that right, Uhm?"

"LIAR!" Roman screamed again, his face red as he clutched the fake prop. "You're not a prince! You're a fake! Dad said lying was wrong."

"Kid–"

"I'll never be like you!" A few tears slipped painfully down his cheeks, "....Logan was right, princes aren't real, they're just a fairytale."

Thomas made to say something, but it was swallowed up by the deafening roar of outraged fairies, gremlins, and boggarts. None of them pleased to know their little play was fake all along.

Suddenly, Roman caught sight of the triple moons far above this strange world darkening, as if a shadow covered them. The crowd rose like a dark wave, bodies disappearing into a wave of inky blackness. Thomas stepped back, and Roman's stomach fell to the floor like a bowling ball as his hairs stood on end.

 

A piercing scream split the night like a crack of lightning as the wave rushed forward onto the stage and swarmed Thomas. Shadows swirled around the prince until Roman lost sight of him. The wind howled and roared, swallowing up the agonized screams torn from Thomas’ throat, and Roman had to shut his eyes against the gale. He clutched the prop against his chest and thought desperately of his brother.

Logan—the only one who made any sense here—and he had just left him behind.

The sound of flesh ripping shook him down to the bones and Roman had to drop the ball to put his hands over his ears.

Why didn’t he listen to Logan?


	9. Chapter 8

The wind slowed to a crawl before becoming the gentle breeze of a summer night. His shoulders rattled as he worked up the nerve to open his eyes. He couldn’t.

Roman was bent over with hands that were still tight over his ears from a hurricane long gone. What kind of prince was he? He said he was never going to be a liar like Prince Thomas, but it seemed he didn’t have courage either. Anyone could be honest, but not everyone brave. He left his brother behind in the crowd and he wanted to puke out the putrid shame that bubbled in his stomach.

“Roman?” a voice called as he felt hands on his trembling shoulders. “Did that prince do something to you?”

Roman looked up at his brother, his face scrunched up in concern and his glasses caught the moonlight in a way that made him shine like he was heaven sent.

“Logan!” he exclaimed as he threw himself into Logan’s arms.

“Yes, it is me,” Logan said as he staggered with his brother’s weight. “But are you quite sure that you’re okay?”

“I’m alright, but...I’m not sure Prince Thomas is,” Roman said, eyes darting down to the steel stage, now splattered with a black substance. “Logan, what did I do?”

Roman turned towards where he last saw Thomas, but Logan put his arm around his shoulders and forced Roman to start walking off the stage instead. He only caught a glimpse. That was it. But it was enough to make Roman feel bile scratch up his throat and coughed away the feeling.

There was nothing left but a black splattered crown shining in the moonlight.

Logan sighed next to him as they made their way through the empty town square, “It’s not your fault, you know?”

“How can– what?!” Roman sputtered. “He is dead! I just found out princes are _real_ and they were liars!”

Logan made a face.

“Princes were always real. There’s Prince, for one. And yes, some of them can be liars, but not all of them. But–” He dropped his arm from Roman’s shoulder– “that’s not what this is really about, is it?”

Roman wrapped his arms tighter around himself.

“I really wanted to become a prince when I grow up. But who would want a prince that kills other princes anyway?” He felt tears burn at the back of his eyes. “My dream is dead, Logan! Can’t you understand that, nerd? Leave me alone to rot. How can I even face Dad and Papa now?”

Roman didn’t even realize he was shaking until he felt a gentle hand on his arm again; awkward, yes, but it was trying. Logan was trying.

Roman shuddered as he felt another sob wrench through him as Logan patted him on the back. It wasn’t like Dad’s enveloping hugs or Papa’s cold embrace.

“They’ll still love you, Roman. Of that, I have no doubt,” Logan said, a smile clear in his voice, “Would–” A pause as Logan deliberated over his words– “would it help if you had a new dream?”

Roman swiped at his eyes. “A new dream?”

Logan pulled him down onto a bench under a tree in a courtyard just beyond the unguarded gates of the castle. “It can’t be that hard; you’re a dreamer, are you not?”

Roman kicked at the cobblestones. “I don’t know.”

Logan sighed as he muttered to himself, “You owe me big time.”

Logan let his head fall back to look up at the foreign stars.

“Roman, you’re talented and–” He forced his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth– “you’re meant for big things.”

“Really? But you said–”

Logan swallowed back the automatic lashing in his throat.

“I said magic wasn’t real. And–” He gestures to the sparkling grey twilight world– “what do you call this?”

“Magic?”

“Magic.”

Roman stared at him like he grew a new head. Logan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Well, it wasn’t every day that he admitted that he was wrong. Even now he wanted to deny all evidence of the supernatural but he prided himself on fighting falsehoods. A smile played on his face, really it was in hindsight all along, not everyone had a ghost for a father.

“There is a whole world out there — not just here, but at home too.” Logan heard Roman sniffle next to him. “You could be a firefighter, a journalist, or even the president! You wear different costumes every year– Roman, where is that imagination that made up a merman robber?”

Logan turned to face Roman, his tear tracks glistening in the moonlight. “So…?”

“I could be a fashion designer.”

“Yes!”

Roman furrowed his brows. “But I don’t want to be alone. You just saw what happened when I was alone! Logan, I really don’t know what I’d do without you; like back at the cabin with Lamia!” His voice jumped with excitement. “That was so cool! I guess I never thanked you for that, did I?”

Logan pushed his glasses with a smirk. “It would be nice…”

Roman laughed and punched Logan in the arm. “Yeah right!” A pause followed. Then his smile softened and almost bashful. “I know this sounds weird but, uh, I can’t be the head of the most famous fashion line in history without someone there to help me run it...and you’re always going on about how smart you are…”

“It’s true,” Logan said and dodged Roman’s automatic punch to the arm again, “but I would love to be right there with you, Roman. I’m sure even David Bowie will pick our fashion over anyone else’s. And you should be glad I said yes. You’d crash and burn without me. And that’s a fact.”

Roman rolled his eyes and made to say something before they were interrupted by a soft voice.

“Excuse me, sirs?” Logan and Roman turned to see a fairy with grey and green coloring on its sleek body and wings. Logan squinted closer; the wings were more silver than green, however, and the body was narrow and thin and shorter than a 4th grader. The thing was hovering in the air above them with a faint humming noise from its wings.

“Yes?” Logan crossed his arms. “Do you want something?”

“Logan, that is so rude!” Roman swatted his arm. Logan hissed as Roman covered for his brother. “Hello, what’s your name?”

“You can call me Elle.” She flew closer to peer at Logan. “I know that demon boy goes by Uhm, and you?

“Excuse me?” Roman sputtered. “Did she just call me a demon? And I’m not a boy! I’m a man, a manly man!”

“Sure, _Uhm_.” Logan smirked at Roman offended gasp. “And you can call me–”

“Gag!” Roman cut in with a beaming smile. “His name is Gag!” He yelped as he felt a finger prod between his ribs. “What? If I get a lame name then so do you! It’s the rules.”

“That is the biggest load of _bull_ I’ve ever.” Logan took a sudden breath and rubbed his forehead. “Maybe Lamia wasn’t so bad.”

"You two are strange creatures," Elle said as she tilted her head. "I see both the sun and the moon. I see both light and darkness. You live in this world yet you come from far away. Whose patronage do you come from, Gag and Uhm?"

"Ha! She called you Gag," Roman crowed with delight.

Logan felt his thoughts swirl around; again with the mention of the sun and the moon, odd. There was no sun here and there was never a sense of time passing. He looked down at his hands, moonlight caught on old scars and deep palm lines. Was it such a stretch that they themselves held some magic?

Logan felt a stir of energy deep in his chest, hot and cold all at the same time, at the mere thought of it. He supposed if ghosts were real as his father was, then he was a fool for not believing in it sooner.

"We don't know, will you tell us?" Logan said at last. "Please, Elle, no one has told us anything."

Ellie pulled on her green lips and sat in the air. "You have a demonic air about you, sirs, yet you reek of human. That is all I know."

It hit Logan like a bag of bricks. "Mom."

Roman flinched. "What about her?"

"Come on, you must know that Dad doesn't ever like to talk about her," Logan said as he pulled Roman to face him. "We don't know who she is."

"She just left us on Dad's doorstep in college. And whenever Dad mentions her, I don't think she was very nice either."

"Not just that," Logan swallowed as the puzzle pieces clicked in his mind, "She was a demon. I'm pretty sure Papa wouldn't lie about Dad being human all this time while he's dead." Logan paused as he crossed his arms and hunched into his shoulders "We're half-demons, Ro– Uhm."

Roman's brown eyes were wide.

"No. But Dad said we're good. Demons are evil and they don't have an ounce of kindness in their bones! Everyone knows that! That's all they talk about on Sunday!” Roman yanked on his hair as he snarled, “They lie, cheat, and steal. They kill children and they're the reason for _everything_ bad in the world."

Elle watched the two of them argue with wide eyes. Surprised colored her delicate green features. She bit down on a fingernail as her expression shifted to something more calculating as she realized neither of the boys knew about their heritage.

Logan stood up. "Is this about your childish wish to blame demons for Papa's death?"

Roman stood up and pushed Logan's chest. "Well it's better than believing Katie Mueller about how Papa was a cheat and died with some...some....strange woman!” Roman’s eyes welled up with tears as his voice cracked, “They say that when they found him, they were still kissing, and they had to use a chainsaw to pull them apart and that's why we couldn't see Papa's body at the funeral!"

Elle flew higher over the heated brothers. Her fluttering wingbeat drowned out by their fiery shouts. Elle hid against the dark backdrop of the night sky.

"Those are rumors! You heard Papa say that he saved people from falling over a cliff!" Logan shouted. "You love fantastical stories too much to know a real one when you hear it! It was sheer human fallacy that killed him and not demons or any other supernatural entity you seem to think!"

"Are you calling Papa stupid?!" Roman snarled as he butted heads with Logan. "Say it again to my face, you goddamn _nerd_!"

Suddenly, Elle snarled, swooping back down and tackling Logan. Her claws catching on the fabric of his shirt, as she screamed her head off.

Logan fumbled as he fell down to the ground with a thud. _Bully!_ His brain screamed as his arms clutched at imaginary textbooks. Panic clawed up his throat and the world took on a startling awareness as his adrenaline finally kicked in. Her teeth shone like glimmering pearls and spit dribbled onto his face. Gross! His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to kick her off him but she was too short. His fingernails caught on the grooves of her lined face and he let out a scream as her jaws clicked inches from his face.

She fell off him with a scream and Logan scrambled up. Elle clutched at her face, black blood oozing in between her thin fingers, and howled again. Bruises molten on her pale green complexion.

Roman held his boulder up higher and hissed at the fairy. Blood dripped down from the grey rock and down Roman's arm until it stained his shirt with black splotches. Elle shook her head and got on all fours to attack again.

Logan picked up a rock and threw it at her feet. "Go away! Leave us alone!"

Roman snarled, "Leave my brother alone!"

Elle whimpered as a pebble struck her eye. Logan and Roman glanced at each other as they stood their ground. Roman smiled as he clutched his rock with sticky black fingers, and Logan nodded with a smirk. If they were going to man a fashion line together then they can defeat this newest obstacle in their way.

Elle flew high above them, her once delicate features now twisted into a grimace.

"Demonlings. You never know how to treat your fellow creatures with respect." She ran a finger down her mottled bruises on her cheek. "However, I shall curse you. Blood for blood. A sun and moon, twins in the sky, as it is in your abominable souls."

Roman and Logan froze at the harsh words. They exchanged worried looks and then back at Elle. Logan shook his head to Roman’s questioning head tilt as his bones shivered with an uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake off.

"Ro– Uhm, we should go," Logan said as he tugged on Roman's arm. "Come on."

"Go?” Elle laughed. They winced; it was like nails dragging down on a chalkboard. “Go where? There is no home for demonlings on Earth nor with the Fae; you all deserve to rot in Hell. I'll happily tell you how to get home." She raised a finger, pointing further into the castle and the city beyond. "Magic lies in the heart of this world and yours shall grow more powerful among it. Reach into yourselves and think of home."

Elle cackled, "Think of licking flames and whips with teeth that cut grooves into your very bones. Think of Hell and you will be there."

Roman swallowed next to him. Logan glanced at his brother's shaking shoulders and wished his own could. Fear clawed at his throat but his shoulders never shook nor his hands turn clammy. His heart fluttered in his chest like a bird in a cage. Yet his stance never faltered, he had to stay strong for his brother, since his Dad never could.

Elle flew higher into the night, her shadow blotted out the stars. "I shall curse you. Gag, you shall never find peace in your soul til the Reaper comes. Uhm, you will never win any calamities you face and your troubles will never lose wind in their sails."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she rose her head up and disappeared.

Logan dropped the rock with a clatter.

"I don't believe her," he said, breaking the silence. He turned to Roman. "Roman, do you?"

Roman let the rock fall from his fingers.

"No way. Besides, she never got our real names! Ha! Besides, it's a rule to never share your real name with a fairy, duh! So everything will be fine."

Roman's smile was bright enough to rival the stars above. Logan smiled back.

"I think we make a pretty good team."

"Yeah, at least you're right about that."

Logan shook his head and let that slide. Roman laughed and ran a head through his hair. The two of them started to follow the fairy's directions.

Oh, they were going to think of home alright. Bright blue skies and a small living room appeared in his mind’s eye.

Logan let that small fire of hope ignite in him from within.

The first thing he was going to do was run into his Dad's arms and say he was sorry.

 


	10. Chapter 9

"Are you sure it's this way?" Patton asked as he stepped off the boat. "It's so quiet here."

Virgil stepped onto the dock and stared into the dark path ahead that led to the rest of the fairy world. Patton watched his dead husband carefully for any worry. Virgil straightened his shoulders and took a breath, his hair crackled with purple magic and his eyes fluttered shut. He took another breath, and Patton's chest felt the sting of energy from within; too weak to bubble to the surface, but there all the same. 

Virgil's eyes opened slowly. "They're heading to the capital. But I'm worried."

"About what?" Patton's eyebrows furrowed, but before he could say anything, Virgil strode forward into the dark forest. Patton yelped, before quickly following behind him.

The trees rustled and long crackled fingers stretched down to the couple. Patton stumbled over a twisted knob of bark and instinctively clutched at Virgil's arm. He blinked at the distinct lack of dirt in his mouth. 

Virgil looked down at him with a faint blush. "Pat?"

Patton made several strangled noises as he untangled himself from Virgil's hold. "I didn't mean to– wait no I kinda did– no, wait. Just ignore me."

Patton covered his face with his hand. Why did he have to be so awkward? It's not like they were in college again tiptoeing around each other. A giggle escaped as he remembered Virgil's mohawk. His parents hated it. Virgil gave them the finger. 

Virgil started to walk again, leaves crackled under his old dress shoes. 

"I know how it's been hard on you. Being a single parent is no walk in the park. I just...wished you didn't do it alone. It's kinda why I stuck around past the first month."

Patton slowly looked up and walked by his side quietly. He didn't dare to speak. Virgil ran a hand through his hair. "Look. If you found someone else, I would've understood, and maybe if the person wasn't a prick, then I could move on."

Patton shook his head. "I could never, Vivi."

Virgil's head snapped to him. His face was slack with shock at the old nickname. Patton hadn't uttered it in six years, not even in his sleep. 

Virgil coughed and his hands fumbled for the ghost of his old hoodie pockets to shove them into. Patton pulled his old jacket closer around himself. 

"We need to find our kiddos.” Patton grimaced as he turned his gaze to the woods and away from Virgil, “And soon. What if time here moves differently? It could be years for them."

"I don't think it works like that," Virgil smiled. "Maybe it might a few years later than it should when we all get home. I don't know–" He fiddled with his blood speckled tie– "I didn't see any point in staying here when I had more important things to look after."

Patton opened his mouth to respond when they heard it; the crack of a twig behind them in the thorny woods. 

Virgil put a finger up to his mouth. He stepped in front of Patton as they turned around to face their stalker. His hair crackled to life in a quiet pop of purple flame. Magic flowed from his hands as he raised them up. 

Someone stepped out of the shadows and on the dirt path. Patton's eyes widened and he felt all the blood in his face drain away. 

She looked different in the sharp relief of the moonlight than in the blurry neon lights of the club. Patton shivered as he felt sharp fingernails drag down his body. He already had one ghost haunting him before Virgil even revealed himself. 

"Lora," Patton whispered.

She smiled with all of her teeth as she flipped her dark red hair over her pale shoulder. 

"Actually, my full name is Loralei.” She dragged her eyes up and down. “Long time no see, eight inches."

Virgil growled, "Hey, you don't talk to my husband like that. His name is Patton."

Her heels clacked against the dirt as if they were linoleum tiles instead of dirt. "Isn't that ex-husband? I made sure of that, honey."

Patton felt ice shoot down his spine. "What?"

She came close enough that he got a whiff of her sickly perfume, her eyes were a cold shade of green, and Patton was glad that he didn't remember them. His nightmares were frightening enough already. Virgil held up a hand and she paused in her assault to consider the crackling magic as a credible threat. 

Loralei sighed. "Can you leash your damn guard dog? I rather not put him down again."

Virgil snarled out a curse and the pulse of purple magic blew her back. Loralei grunted and blew out air through her nose as she clutched her stomach. Laughter bubbled out of her as she picked herself up and dusted the dirt and leaves off her wine red cocktail dress. 

"Whooo!” She cackled. “Feisty, aren't you?" 

Patton felt tremors in his hand and watched with horror as they crawled up to the rest of his body until he was a shaking leaf behind Virgil. Sickening horror turned his stomach as he finally pieced it together. She...killed Virgil. Somehow. Patton looked up at the man standing against the encroaching demon and wondered if it wasn't the first time. 

"What did you do?" Patton whispered, "What have you done?"

Loralei's blood red lips smiled. 

"Terror was always a beautiful look on you, pretty boy.” Loralei circled the two of them with a predatory smile, “I didn’t kill him, oh no, his own bleeding heart did him in. I just made sure he wasn’t found with dignity. Nothing like a few illusions and some magic couldn’t do.”

Silence rang through the forest. Patton drew in a shuddering breath as his hands clawed into his scalp. He yanked on his strands as questions flooded his head. 

“Why?” Patton side-stepped Virgil. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

Loralei rolled her eyes. “Mortals always think it’s about them. Me, me, oh shut up. Fools, the lot of you–” She leaned on one hip and raised an eyebrow– “so I’ll say this slowly. I want my children back. You have defied all my expectations and by that I mean you tore them to shreds. Love, peace, turning the other cheek? What kind of glitter glue are you sniffing? I will not stand you turning my sons into good boys!”

“Then you shouldn’t have left them on my doorstep,” Patton hissed. “They nearly  _ died.  _ Who leaves a pair of three month old twins on someone’s doorstep?! I raised them and you did nothing. You aren't touching a hair on their heads."

Loralei studied her fingernails. 

"How about I sweeten the pot then?” she offered. “I can give you back your husband. Alive and well. All you need to do is go back to your mudball and forget about my boys. No more ghosts, how about it?"

Virgil shoved his sleeves up his arms. "How about no, asshole?"

"I believe I didn't ask you, little insect."

Virgil bristled before a hand landed on his shoulder. Patton's hand tightened as if to reassure himself that Virgil was there, and that translucent version of him that Patton saw in his ransacked kitchen was only a dream. 

"No," Patton said. "And would I be right if you were the one behind the kidnapper?"

"Not just that," Loralei stepped forward again. "It wasn't my first attempt nor the last. I sent hellhounds, fairies, even magic rabbits. Your ghost scared them all away.” Patton growled before Virgil held him back, Loralei chuckled mirthlessly, “Before that, way before he got flattened like a pancake on the side of a mountain? He was a stay at home Dad and no matter how many tricks and illusions I pulled, he never let my snotty brats out of his sight!" She glared at the crackling ghost. "Why couldn't you turn a blind eye just once?"

"Wait, so you wanted us to be bad fathers?" Virgil said in disbelief. He broke into a smug smile. "Ha! They're just kids, not your goddamn weapons for whatever messed up plan you're cooking.” Virgil grinned with a hint of dark humor, “And here I thought I was attracting those monsters because I was haunting my kids. But, no, it was just you."

"Well according to studies," Loralei smiled as she recounted the information with glee, "traumatic childhoods make everything so much easier. Demons with homegrown daddy issues love to pick their bones against humanity." She sighed dreamily. "Some of our best work was made that way."

Patton glared at her. 

"If you think I'm ever abandoning my children, then you haven't been paying close enough attention.  He stepped forward to meet her, her sickly perfume just like he remembered. “So I swear to  _ god _ if you touch a hair on their heads. I will tear it all down. Heaven, Hell, this world. Gone."

Lorelei's lip quivered.

Patton stepped back into the worried arms of his husband. "So leave. Before we make you. I never want to see you."

Lorelei snarled, her fangs glimmered in the moonlight. 

"You have a better chance of diverting a river from its course than deny their nature. Violence becomes them. And I'll be there. Waiting to welcome my demonlings home."

Lorelei turned around in a frustrated huff. Her red hair flickered up into a captivating mane of fire and with a pop and crackle, a red portal opened. 

Lorelei turned around one last time as she stepped into the swirling portal. Sulfur suffocated Patton's nose even from where he stood. Tall spikes and dripping racks made up the world on the other side. She flipped them the finger as the portal closed with a sizzle.

Patton shuddered out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. 

"We need to go find them. Now."

Virgil tightened his grip on him.He only had time to register a smirk over his shoulder. "Good thing I have frequent flyer miles then."

Patton yelped as his feet left the ground. Virgil grinning widely as they flew through the winding path. His purple hair whipping up a storm as they disappeared into the forest. The wind caught only a part of their whispered conversation. 

"Do you think she's right?"

"No, Pat, we raised good boys. Don't ever doubt that."

++++

Lamia twisted her knuckles as she stared up at the sprawling city square before her. The damn brats were somewhere in this place. She tore off a wing off that fairy—Ellen or something—so the information better be correct. Her knuckles danced over that empty spot on her hip. They ached for a knife.

Then she spotted a familiar duo studying a merchant’s wares. The boy with glasses held up a creamy white shell. His brother, the coward, giggled at something he said. Lamia smirked as she crept closer through the crowd. Her hand reached out.

A hundred thousand dollars of easy money coming right up. 

_ Dead or alive,  _ echoed in her head. 

The nerd boy turned around and his round freckled little face drained of all color. She grinned with sick glee as she watched him drag his brother into the crowd of foul and dirt stained creatures. Her hands twitched again to tear their wings and spindly grey limbs apart. 

Fairies, bah; a fancy word for easy targets. 


	11. Chapter 10

Logan panted as he looked around the sprawling city. He pulled Roman along behind him as they looked frantically for a hiding place from Lamia, crashing into different merchants' shops and tents through the cramped streets. Roman shouted apologies behind him as Logan searched for a way out. He had to. 

They both flinched at the terrified screams of fairies behind them as Lamia stomped behind them. 

"We have to hide!" Roman shouted next to him. 

"I know! Just give me a minute to think!"

"There isn't much time for thinking, pocket watch!" 

Logan finally saw a dark alley with stairs that led up to the roof. Maybe they could run over rooftops and escape that way? Yes! 

Logan pulled Roman behind him into the dark alley that smelled strongly of curdled milk and rotting meat. He rushed upwards toward the roof with Roman's loud clanking on the metallic steps behind him. 

It was then that Logan realized they were truly in deep shit.

"Shit. Shit, shit — we are so screwed." Logan moaned with his head in his hands. The rooftops weren't connected to the others. It was impossible to escape. 

Roman rushed forward to the edge and squinted at the yawning distance of the closest rooftop. Logan grabbed Roman's shirt. Don’t even  _ think  _ about it, Roman. 

Logan whipped around as he heard distant footsteps coming from the stairwell. Roman turned around, his pale face gaunt in the soft oranges of the sky turning from cloudy grey. The sun was arriving soon. It’ll be their first sunrise. Logan wished with all of his heart it could arrive faster. 

A tuft of purple hair peeked over the wall. No, it couldn’t be. Logan pushed past Roman as his feet already ran, knowing who it was, hoping against hope. Yes it was! He heard a grunt as Virgil pushed himself up the last few steps of the stairwell. Dad! 

“Roman? Logan?” Virgil said surprised, his brown eyes wide as he peeked over the wall, “Oh thank god, you’re okay!”

Logan was swept up into his father’s arms. Tears welled up in his eyes as Papa’s arms surrounded him. Forehead kissed and another tight hug was all Logan could handle before his tears slipped out. 

“Papa!” Logan cried as he wrapped his arms around his neck. “I’m sorry! I tried to stay strong for Roman like you told me to. And I did get to punch some ‘smarmy assholes’. I told Roman to stay where we were and then there was talking animals! Weird beast things! Nothing makes sense here. I want to go home.”

Virgil set Logan down and kneeled down to his level. 

“Honestly? You did great, kiddo.” He thumbed over to where Patton was kissing the living bejesus out of Roman despite his embarrassed squeals. He looks fine to me. You took care of Roman pretty well. He’s not easy to look after. I should know! I thought he’d be the death of me.”

Virgil ruffled his hair. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is it true?” Logan said leaning into Virgil’s side. “That we’re demons?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Man, high school is gonna  _ suck. _ ”

His father shook with laughter next to him. “Dude, you’re going to meet kids way more demonic than you or Roman will ever be. You got this, alright? And you need to join some clubs! Like I don’t know, chess. Meet friends, don’t play D&D in the basement like I did, even if it’s really fun.” The two of them turned to look at the other half of their family with soft smiles. 

Patton swung Roman around. “Who do I love?”

“Me,” Roman said as he tried to squirm out of his arms. 

“Come on, I can’t hear you!”

“Daaaaadddd!” Roman groaned, “I’m not five anymore! Put me down!!! Gah, Dad, stop!!!”

Patton smirked as he hauled Roman up higher. “I can’t hear you!”

“Me!!!” Roman shouted, a smile making a way onto his face despite his valiant efforts. Peals of laughter echoed in the chilled air. Patton set Roman down with a twirl, dizzy, as Roman stumbled against his dad’s side. Patton bops Roman’s nose and smiles as he pulled his finger away from Roman’s instinctual chop. 

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on Logan’s neck and screamed as he was pulled back. His father fell down to the pavement with a grunt. He clawed at the hand around his neck, but it was like made of steel. He twisted his head around to take a look. His face paled. 

It was Lamia. 

Her eyes were wild and her sharp teeth glistened in the first rays of the sunrise. 

Lamia thrusted Logan higher until his legs kicked at empty air. 

“Stay back or I break him like a goddamn twig.”

Patton held his hands out. “Okay, okay.” 

“Let him go!” Virgil shouted, he stood up, purple flames flared to life along his arms. Lamia cocked her head at the action. She held Logan up higher as her fingers creaked around his soft throat. He had to do something. 

Patton hugged him from behind, yanking him back, Virgil’s wrath wavered as he heard Patton’s voice racked with desperation. He could throw a fireball but the risk was too great. Logan was going to get hurt no matter what he did.  

“Fine. Stop, stop!” Virgil shouted, his voice shaky with withheld tears. 

Lamia smirked. “Start walking, slowly, we’re trading places.” 

Virgil glared as he stood by Patton and Roman. Roman’s heart was loud in his ears. His brother was in danger! This entire time, Logan has saved him over and over again. What kind of brother was he that didn’t save him too? A horrid one! 

Virgil put a hand on his shoulder to push him into walking. Lamia slowly circled around until they stood by the staircase to the alley down. The mercenary’s messy ponytail framed by the rising sun made her look like a beast in the shadows cast on her face. Logan twisted in her grip, but to no avail. 

He had to save him!

“Roman!” Patton screamed, as Roman ran headfirst into her in a blur. “No!”

His head snapped back from her fist. Ow! Her free hand clamped down on his neck while he was down. No. No, no; his legs kicked out into empty air as fingers clamped tightly around his neck. 

“Two of a set,” Lamia laughed at the two boys struggling uselessly in her grip. “Isn’t that beautiful?” 

“Logan!” Roman cried, reaching out to find his brother, fingers outstretched to their limits. Lamia’s fingers tightened and his hand fell away. Roman gasped as stars danced in front of him. His lungs burned as he drew in short gulps. He can’t die here. Please not here. Fear threatened to swallow him. 

“Roman!” Logan shouted, then glared at Lamia as he rasped out a defiant promise through his purpling throat. “Don’t...hurt...him…”

No. He wasn’t going to be a coward anymore! 

“I’m not afraid of you anymore!” Roman said, tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m not scared. I have my brother here with me! I’m Roman–” He clawed at her fingers until he felt a little give and he gulped in the extra air, then he looked at his dads and his brother as he said finally– “and I’m brave.”

“I know you are, honey,” Patton said gently, then his eyes hardened as he looked up at Lamia. “What do you want?”

“A way out of here.” Lamia glanced behind her and then stepped back until Roman could heard the distant clamor of the fae marketplace far below; it was only a short jump away. “These boys are my ticket out of Alice Wonderland,” she continued, “and you aren’t stopping me.”

“I can open a portal for you right now and—” Virgil’s hair floated up with a crackle of magic.

“And who the fuck are you?” Lamia sneered. “You’re probably one of  _ them _ . So can it, you fairy.”

Virgil’s hair didn’t relax; instead it became brighter with its purple glow. “Get away from our sons. I won’t ask again, GI Jane. Put them down.”

Lamia twitched as more hair fell in front of her face. Patton stepped forward, face dark as he eyed the two of them, already assessing on how to take her down. Lamia let out a snarl and Patton reluctantly backed off. Lamia’s breaths were loud in the muffled silence of a sunrise. Her fingers started to slide on Roman’s throat from his sweat. Or hers. It was hard to tell. Wait. He had an idea. 

“Make your portals,” Lamia snapped.

“We found out we were demons only like yester—”

“Now!”

Logan snapped his mouth shut. Roman met his brother’s eyes as he twisted to look at him. Dark blue eyes so familiar, yet so alien to see them filled with fear. His brother always seemed to figure something out. Whether it was to shout an argument, bury a broken vase, or tell him that his drawings were good. That he didn’t need to hide them. Roman remembered his dream, the new one, of working together as brothers in the real world. A fashion line so popular that even David Bowie lauded their creativity and pizazz. 

If Logan couldn’t do something, then Roman had to. His neck was slick with sweat, thanks to his overactive fear response, even if it made deodorant expensive. He wiggled in Lamia’s meaty fingers. He was almost there. Just another wiggle!

“Do it!” Lamia barked as she noticed Logan’s now faint blue glow, but none from Roman, “Make a damn portal or I’ll break your brother’s fucking neck.”

Logan’s squeak was cut off by a creak of her fingers. Roman felt a hot white flash up his body. Images of his brother’s broken body ran through his imagination. His fathers dead and dying on the roof. He ignored his little voice of logic that sounded eerily like his own brother; that pointed out ghosts can’t die. Rivers of blood and bleached bones and purple bruises fueled the fire in his soul. The deep yawning dark of nonexistence whispered from his nightmares. The flames roared over the pitiful cries of his fear.  **_No._ **

**“No,** ” Roman snarled.

“What did you just say?”

Her fingers slid off his neck and Roman crumpled onto the floor. It worked! He ignored the loud shouts from his dads to run. He was sick of running. The sun peeked through the grey clouds of morning and he felt his smile grow into a sharp one as he felt the sun’s gentle touch on his cheeks. He was going to fight! 

“I’m not afraid anymore!” Roman shouted, he brought his shaking fists up, just like his brother taught him. “You should be afraid of  _ me. _ ”

Silence echoed through the rooftop. Roman grinned at Lamia’s stunned look. Logan pushed through his shock and started to struggle again. Patton called gently out to him,  _ please get back,  _ he shook his head. Roman turned around and flashed a cocky grin and wink at his fathers. Virgil’s face was pale, then slipped into a nervous smile. Patton stepped forward, about to grab Roman away despite his newfound bravery. 

He’s got this. The foul villain was thrown off her rhythm; street smarts! She was cornered with nowhere to go. Dad and Papa was right here with him. He bet Logan even had a plan! There was no way he was going to lose! 

Lamia laughed. Low and gleeful. Her brown eyes hollow as if all sanity has left the building.  Roman stepped back, his bravado gone like mist. What was seriously her problem?! His throat swallowed. Maybe this wasn’t an easy villain. Tch, no matter, final boss battles never were! His button smashes in Mortal Kombat attested to that!

His eyes glanced to Logan, his struggling and kicking has only worsened. He ignored his brother’s vehement hisses to  _ run, run you idiot, please.  _ Logan’s portal was slowly coming into being, dark blue with swirling stars like magical sequins. His hair floating up with ethereal magic echoing the faint drums of Hell. 

Gritting his teeth and tensing his knuckles, Roman ran headon at Lamia. Lamia threw a punch, Roman smirked as he dodged it. He grabbed her forearm and bit down  _ hard  _ into the iron muscles underneath. She screamed. Logan gasped as he was thrusted higher into the sky like he was a sought after TV remote. Roman held on tight as Lamia slammed him against the brick wall. 

“Let,” slam, “my” punch, “brother”, his skull cracked, “go!!” he screamed. Blood ran down into his eyes. The taste of iron filled his mouth. Eugh, he hoped he didn’t catch crazy. Lamia snarled as Roman kept hitting her. Knuckles cracked and bleed open. His muscles screamed for relief. His teeth clamped down on her fingers. More blood spurted in his mouth. At this, she howled, and finally snapped. 

Lamia’s hand shot out and yanked on Roman’s shirt. He clawed on Lamia’s face, racking down stark red lines. Lamia grinned as she stared at Roman as she held him up by the nape of his neck like a troublesome cat. He might be short, but he was five feet and six inches full of rage! He kicked at her chest hard enough until he felt things  _ crack _ under his boots. 

Lamia didn’t even wince. Instead she grinned wider.

“The thing about portals,” Lamia crooned as she held him closer, brown eyes filing his vision, “is that I just need one.” 

Roman’s eyes widened. No, wait, this wasn’t supposed to happen! Roman snarled as he charged forward to bite her entire face off. Better to die nobly than live a coward.

Lamia thrusted him off the roof. 

The roar of the wind and Patton’s guttural scream followed his fall. His bloody fingers clawing at nothing. Logan! He was leaving Logan behind! _ Dad! Anyone! Save me! _ The blue sky above him like a blanket tucking him in for the long night of everlasting sleep. He closed his eyes with a sigh, at least he was good for something after all. Then everything slammed to a sudden screeching halt.

.

.

.

Logan screamed, “Roman!” 

But there was no answer — only the faint confused clamor of the merchants below, and the whistle of the wind. Sobs wrenched through him and he wanted to puke. Tears blurred his vision as all feeling left his body. The fingers around his throat, the burn of his lungs; all of it faded away. 

His soul had just been cleaved apart. 

“Roman!”

“Shut up, little brat!” Lamia spat. Sobs echoed from his crumpled fathers. Virgil pulled Patton against his chest as his shoulders shook with the loss of his son. 

The crackle of the portal pulled at Logan’s soul. Magic deep from within stopped with a sickening lurch. 

With a pop, the portal was gone. He was never going to let this murderer go home.

“No!” Lamia shouted as she threw Logan to the ground. “You piece of—”

A boot swung toward his face. His head snapped back onto the pavement. Stars burst in his eyes. Glass shattered distantly. His frames sat crushed in front of him, and blood dripped down his gums. His shoulders shook as he spat out a glob of blood onto the rooftop. His cheek throbbed and spurted with blood from the abuse. Tears over his burgeoning bruises made him whimper as he curled into a fetal position. His so-called bravery that Rom...his brother lauded him for, it was gone, gone with him. 

There was no point.

He had no brother to be brave for.

To fight for. 

No glasses, no brother, and no bravery. He was alone. 

Lamia stomped closer. Virgil’s crackling magic filled the air but it was too late. Always too late. It was up to him. Lamia was too close to aim properly without hurting Logan too. By her grin, she knew it. It was all up to him, for the first time, Logan had to fight for himself.

_ I don’t know how,  _ he thought to himself. Magic rolled inside of him like a tidal wave, foreign and acquired from this plane. 

A manicured claw reached out to him, and the shadow of her fingers eclipsed the rising sun. His eyes wide open, fighting his instinctual desire to shut them. 

It was then, he wondered if Roman died with his eyes open. 

_ “Come on, nerd!” Roman shouted over the roar of the parade. “We’re going to miss it!” _

_ Logan squeezed past the warm bodies to hold onto his brother’s hand tightly, not wanting to lose him. He turned around to see his fathers lounging on a picnic blanket on a hill, above the eager crowds, Patton giggling as Virgil put sunscreen on him. Blech.  _

_ Roman yanked on his arm harder and with a yelp they finally pushed past the insurmountable wall of adults and kids alike.  _

_ It was Buzz Lightyear! _

_ All thought stuttered to a stop as he saw the man wave in the shimmering sunlight of hot noon. It’s him! The hero pushed a few buttons on his arm and with a swoop, his wings popped open. Just like his toy at home! Whoa… A finger poked him in the cheek. Logan startled from his stupor and turned to glare at Roman. The parade float puttered its way down the street. The moment gone.  _

_ “Were you starstruck?” Roman smirked. _

_ “I didn’t know they had Buzz Lightyear this year! I know it’s been out for two years but did you know, Roman?” Logan exclaimed, “He looked so cool! Wow. I want to be like him.” _

_ “A toy?” _

_ “No!” Logan scowled, “An astronaut!!” His smile faded. “But well… I can’t be an astronaut. Even if it’s really cool.” _

_ The roars of the crowd faded as he remembered Roman’s head tilt. His dark brown eyes that weren’t Patton’s pale azure or Logan’s cerulean. The sweat on his brother’s brow and those dorky cowboy swim trunks he wore that summer July. Only a few months before Virgil died that fall. Before their entire family changed.  _

_ “Why not? I bet you’d be a really cool astronaut. Even better than Buzz!” _

_ “Cause you won’t be there,” Logan admitted with a sigh,.“I don’t want to leave without you.” _

_ Roman ruffled his hair and pulled into a headlock, Logan whined. “Noooo!! Roman stop! Gack! I take it back, I’m going to space and leaving you behind. Aaaah, not the ear!” _

_ Roman let him go with a beam, “Don’t worry about me! I’m a cowboy, someone has to take care of Earth while you’re gone, Lo.” _

_ “I...suppose you’re right.” _

He blinked. Something soft rippled beneath his fingers. It convulsed and shuddered as blood burst beneath his black claws. It was a throat. Something cracked to the left of him. His eyes shot to the sound quicker than he processed it. 

A purpled arm sat lifeless on the movement, twisted and gorged until it was unrecognizable. Teeth marks bright like pink flowers among a lavender field. His eyes zeroed on the source of the crack; it was a manicured fingernail torn away from the nail bed, the last to join its brethren on the gravel. 

No.

He didn’t—

_ “ ‘Course I am!” Roman laughed, “Do you think we can convince Dad to let us stay to see the fireworks?” _

He shut his eyes. Drew in a shaky breath through his nose. He steeled himself to look. Eyes bulged out of her skull, her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, he could see all the way back to her molars. Her chest did another convulsion underneath him. Logan licked his lips and warm blood that wasn’t his own buzzed his senses instead of disgust. The iron metallic taste became heady as caramel toast with a lather of honey. It was too much sugar to be healthy. His tongue bumped against his teeth, sharpened to a point; almost like a dog’s but worse. Blood, more blood, he needed more.

More. 

“Logan?” Patton whispered. 

Dad, dad, echoed in his mind. Spit dribbled out of the corner of the creature’s mouth. Disgusting. 

Its throat croaked as he dug his claws deeper. Why didn’t it die already? Die, die — the word echoed in his mind. Empty of everything but burning hatred. And memories that hurt too much to remember. 

_ “We can’t tell Dad!” Roman shouted as they stood over a broken vase. Dad was late again from his shift. Logan reached down to pick up the pieces. Roman stopped him with a shake of his head. “Get some gloves, nerd. Pick this up and throw it in the trash, out of sight out of mind, right? Dad would get mad if he saw it.” _

“Logan, honey?” Patton repeated again, his voice gentle behind him. Dad. His stomach dropped. Trouble, he doesn't want trouble; he's a grade A student. It would be on his record. The principal would call Dad and then he'll hear the disappointed lecture on the way home. Home? Where was that? Logan snarled at the encroaching memories. 

"It's just me, Lo lo," Patton soothed, "It's okay. Let her go. It's over. My starlight, please, listen to me. I'm right here." His voice wavered. "Can you hear me from where you are? I know it's dark and scary but your Dad is always right here." 

His newly attuned ears heard the soft drip of tears splashing against the pavement. 

"Come home. This isn't you, Logan. Wake up. I'm here. How are you feeling? Talk to me."

"More," Logan rasped. "No. I don't want to get into trouble. I did something bad. I'm sorry."

He heard a sniffle. "It's okay. Daddy will be with you even if you do something bad, okay?" 

"It was Roman's idea, we buried your favorite vase in the rose bushes," Logan swallowed as more tears splashed down. "I'm sorry. Roman lied and I should've been a better role model. Then he wouldn't lie." 

"K-kiddo–" Patton's voice was wet– "it's okay. I forgive you. Both you and Ro-ro-Roman."

Logan stood up, his claws tight around the paling throat. He ignored the cries to step back. His hackles rose he felt a dark presence barrel right at his exposed back. His mind went blank for a moment as hot rage filled his vision. How dare—

His thought ended. 

The whistle of the wind set his aching soul back into his body. 

Logan saw terrified eyes pleading him for mercy. Lamia’s legs dangled over the edge, it’s arms and hands too broken to even grapple for escape, like his brother did. For a moment, he turned his eyes to the rest of the sunrise and took in the ravaged land. Shops overturned and fires spiraling into the air. He took a breath. Savoring the unadulterated fear of the mortal before him.

He threw the broken vase into the rose bushes below. 

Logan crouched down on the wall and grinned as he heard the satisfying shatter. Music, music to his ears, his ears. The creature twitched, gasped, and then went still. The vase was so exceedingly fragile that it was a wonder that Roman hadn't broken it before now. Logan stepped off the ledge and turned around. Away from his misdeed. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

Virgil stared up at him from the opposite wall. His form flickered weakly. Patton sat next to him, pressing his hands to a wound on his arm, fussing over him. Dad doesn't know, so he wasn't in trouble, he was a grade A student. 

"I want to go home. Please. I don’t feel so good. Dad...” Logan swayed and dropped to his knees. His head spun and sick threatened to come up. He focused on his broken glasses in front of him, they reflected black eyes squinting down at it; is that him? His eyes were blue, right? 

He didn’t know anything anymore.

“Logan!” his fathers cried out in unison. They ran forward to hug him. Virgil and Patton squeezed him until he felt his heart pop in his chest. A hand ran through his floating hair and brushed gently against his horns. His head was nudged forward into an old jacket that’s been in the wash so many times the colors washed out. His breath shuddered into the warm chest and the thumping of the heartbeat underneath was a soothing drum. Black claws dug into the soft fabric like a lifeline.

“I’m going to rub your back now, okay? But try to remember what you learned,” Virgil said as he rubbed his back slowly in circles. “Breathe in for four seconds–” Logan sucked in air hungrily– “and hold your breath for seven seconds. You’re doing great. Now breathe out for eight seconds.” 

After a few minutes, his horns disappeared back into his skull, his claws faded away, and like a floodgate flung open, thoughts rushed back into his head. Tears sprang anew from his eyes as he clutched Patton and sobbed. He didn’t– why did he– oh god. What have I? 

All of his fear, hurt, and anger finally released, not through violence, but tears so thick he couldn’t see. Patton rocked his son, his only son, in his lap. 

He held on tight to the small body in his arms despite how much it shook like a leaf in the wind. Virgil sang gently to him an old lullaby, but it only made him cry even harder until Patton was sure he was going to puke. 

Patton leant down and kissed his brow. “You can rest now, kiddo. You did great, I am so  _ proud  _ of you.” He wiped away the boy’s tears as he glanced at Virgil. 

“...Heaven is a lovely place to be, Roman will love it there. He can play everyday and every night. He’s happier now.”

Logan wiped away snot on the collar of his shirt with a sniffle. “He’d be happier alive.”

Patton sighed as he gave a wobbly smile that was too sad to be real. “I know. Your brother will miss you very much. And he loves you to the moon and back.”

Sunlight twinkled over the rooftop and the torn landscape of the nether world. The two bodies lied at the center of the market square shimmered with the slick of blood in the early sun. Merchants chattered about the new addition. It was strange, stupendous, cultural! Who left such a bold landscaping choice? The sun rose higher in the sky as the merchants lost interest and stepped over the bodies with no regard. Soon, the sun lost sight of them in the crowds of the fae marketplace. 

The world spun on quite happily with one less demon in the world. 


	12. Epilogue

Logan scuffled his shoes in the dirt and pulled down on his tie. Patton made it too tight again. Logan rolled his eyes as he looked around the cemetery.

Back here again. Bleh.

Logan ignored the quiet chatter of his extended family and the roar of the cars leaving. He hated how much it felt like nothing changed yet everything did.

He sat down on an old swing, the rickety old seat creaked under his weight. Logan liked that it was in perfect view of the fresh grave. Baby pictures sat propped against the gravestone and Logan looked away. Was he really still a twin if his other half was taken away?

He shook his head, of course he was still a twin, even if…

The fraying ropes groaned under Logan’s white knuckled grip.

No use thinking about it now.

Logan pushed against the grass and swung in the warm spring sunshine, the wind a gentle friend against his pressed suit from the men’s store down the street. Logan didn’t know how his Papa could stand wearing a suit day in and day out. Then again, he was a ghost. Dead as a doorknob.

“Logan, hey buddy,” Virgil said as he walked over to him. “Are you doing alright?” His face scrunched in concern as he watched his son swing mildly. Logan huffed and rolled his eyes in lieu of an answer. Virgil let out a big sigh.

“It’s not your fault. Trust me, it’s not.”

“I’m a demon.” Logan said, his tone sharp as steel and just as emotionless. “Roman is just...gone. I think of the most awful things because I’m selfish and a demon. Did I mention that?”

Virgil put a hand on his knee, steadying him. “What things?”

Logan looked down at his lap. “I wanted him to turn into a ghost. Like you. So I wouldn’t be so fucking lonely.”

“Language.”

Logan felt tears prick at the edge of his eyes, “Roman promised we would stick together so why isn’t he **_here_ ** ?” Logan snarled. “He lied to me. For all I know, Roman isn’t even in Heaven, cause he’s a _demon._ We don’t get happy endings, Papa. Ever.”

Virgil let a smile twitch on his face. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Logan raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Virgil stood up and ruffled his hair with a grin before turning around to look at the fresh grave. His smile dropped off his face as his eyes drifted to the right, where his own faded gravestone stood.

Logan watched Virgil walk over to join Patton who didn't move the entire time through the funeral. His translucent arms wrapped around Patton as they both stared down at the small grave.

_Roman Love._

_Here lies a boy who dreamed and laughed every day until the day he died._

_He will be missed dearly._

_June 4th, 1984 - March 21st, 1997_

Logan sighed and stood up from his swing. His hands clenched into fists as Roman's scream echoed in his ears again; that horrible distant crack of bones breaking against the ground below.

Logan froze as a cold voice murmured at the back of his mind; do it again.

No. No, it's wrong. Logan let his anger burn inside of him and hoped the hot flames were from the sun inside of him; that he was still human, even if only a sliver was left.

Logan walked forward and took ahold of Patton's hand.

Patton startled and then let out a sigh, "Oh, Logan, it's you. Are you alright?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm fine. You aren't.”

Patton's tear tracks shone in the sunlight. "Honey, it's okay to cry. I told you so, didn't I? Lolo, you lost your brother."

Logan couldn't find the words to answer that. He buried his head into Patton's chest. He blinked back tears as he felt his Dad's arms circle him. Patton's soft coos and gentle rubs down his back finally broke the dam.

Logan sobbed against his chest. Shudders wracked his body as his mind beat back memories of Roman's smiles and laughter. He tried to forget Roman's scared brown eyes as Lamia broke down their bedroom door and yanked them out of their hiding place. He tried to forget Roman's heartbroken face after he met a prince, and then the look of hope Logan gave him. A new dream that will never be realized now.

A cold hand ran through his hair in a familiar motion. Papa. Logan twisted his fists in Patton's pressed suit as shame coursed through his veins. Weakling! That cold voice shouted at him.

Logan sobbed in defiance, tears rolling down his cheeks, and wet snot dribbled out his nose.

His brother was dead.

Logan was all alone now.

Logan pulled away and wiped at his eyes roughly. Patton took off his glasses gently and took out a handkerchief. His father scrubbed at his wet face as Logan grimaced and took the napkin.

Logan pouted, "I'm not a baby, I can do this myself."

He scrubbed away his tears as his two fathers watched him sadly. Virgil sighed and ran a hand through his own hair.

"I really should get going. I think I've overstayed enough."

Logan whipped up to look at him. “Where are you going?”

Patton and Virgil looked between them. Patton’s expression only grew sadder, which Logan thought was an impossibility. Virgil bit his lip and looked away.

Patton laid a hand on Virgil’s shoulder and nodded his head with a whispered _“Tell him._ ”

Virgil hunched into his shoulders but Patton’s hand gave him the strength to look straight into Logan’s piercing blue eyes.

“Lo, buddy, I can’t stay.” Virgil said quietly. “I have to move on. Heaven, Hell, or maybe neither of those. But I know you’re going to be alright without me.” Virgil smiled. “No matter what you do, Logan, know that I’m going to be proud of you. Okay?”

Logan felt like the rug was pulled from right underneath him.

He can’t– please– _don’t leave me too._

“I’m not leaving.” Virgil shook his head, “Come on, I’ll be in your memories and your heart. Right, Pat?”

Logan felt a faint blush as he realized he said that aloud.

“That’s right.” Patton’s lips twitched with the barest hint of a smile, but Logan knew that grief would weigh it down until the day he too, passed away. Patton laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “I know, I’m scared too, but if you love something, then you need to let it go.”

Logan looked away, “Well that’s easy for you to say. You don’t see ghosts.”

“Logan!” Virgil hissed, “Don’t talk to your father like that.”

“Or what? You’ll haunt me again?”

Patton pushed the two of them apart. “Boys, boys, not today.” His voice cracked. “Please.”

Logan crossed his arms and mumbled, “Sorry.”

Virgil let out a long exhale. “Sorry, too, bud. But I’m counting on you to look after Patton. Make sure he eats a lot of cookies.” Patton let a noise of protest, Virgil leaned over and pecked his cheek. “Please? For me? And you know I love a little pudge.”

Patton giggled as he rubbed the space Virgil left. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Virgil’s face softened. “More than anything.”

“Gross,” Logan rolled his eyes. “I take it back, just leave now, I can’t handle another month with you lovebirds.”

Virgil let out a huff of laughter as he picked up Logan.

“I love you too, son.” He kissed his cheek as Logan squirmed in his hold. “Don’t forget it!”

“Put me down!”

Virgil held him for another few minutes as Logan’s protests grew weaker and weaker by each minute. Patton came in and hugged them both. Their last family hug. Logan felt his heart crack again at the lack of Roman’s squealing laughter to complete it.

Virgil took in a shuddering breath as he gently set Logan back on the ground. His hands lingering as he pulled away.

Desperate to make this moment last even longer.

Virgil wiped at his eyes furtively. “Damn it. I wanted to stay strong. And not so sappy,” He let out a laugh, tinged with sadness and self-pity. “I really was useless wasn’t I?”

Patton shook his head. “Don’t say that.”

Logan felt that anger roar up to the surface.

“You’re wrong! You looked after Roman and I while Dad was working! I remember when you could barely hold yourself together. Just flickering in and out!” Logan jabbed a finger into Virgil’s chest. “You tried to fight off Lamia! You told Dad what happened! And you kept us safe.”

Logan felt his lips wobbling. “So don’t think we didn’t notice. We did. I…”

Logan felt the words stick in his throat.

This was his last chance to say it.

“I love you, Papa,” Logan said, his voice straining not to fall apart. “You were more than an adequate father.”

Virgil broke out into a large grin. “I think that’s the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

His body started to glow with a white light. His rumpled suit and slacks that he died in faded away to a familiar purple hoodie and jeans; just like Logan remembered before his life took a downturn for the worse.

Virgil gave a two finger salute, “See you later, punk. And Patton?”

The light grew brighter until both Patton and Logan had to squint against the glare.

Patton’s blue eyes were wide. “Yes, dear?”

“I hope I don’t see you too soon. Promise?”

Patton’s tears were back full force, and he smiled as big as he could.

“I promise.”

Virgil’s answering smile was lost in the light and then he was gone.

The cemetery was quiet save for the rustle of the grass and the bird chirps among the trees. The spring sun sat in its noon throne. Patton wiped at his eyes and turned to Logan.

“You ready to go home?”

Logan took one last look at his brother’s grave. “Yeah, I am.”

+++++

The first thing Virgil registered was a soft pillow against his cheek. He groaned and burrowed himself deeper beneath the quilted covers. It was snowing outside. Wait, how did he know that? Virgil rubbed his eyes as he turned over to face his alarm clock.

It was five am.

Too damn early for anything. He turned over again and tried to let sleep take hold of him again. Then his eyes shot open.

Virgil sat up, “Where am I?”

He looked around the room and saw cat and dog posters peeling off the walls. Panic seized his heart, _I’m home?_ Virgil looked around but there was no Patton to be found. And it was winter by the look of the frosted windows in their old bedroom. It was spring…

Virgil worried the cotton sheets between his fingers as he wondered if he did the whole ‘moving on’ thing wrong.

Suddenly, his door slammed open hard enough to bounce against the wall. Virgil yelped and pulled the covers up. Roman cackled in his superman pajamas as he threw himself onto his bed. Virgil felt his eyes were almost gonna pop out of his sockets.

“It’s Christmas!” Roman bounced up and down on his bed until the frames threatened to break under his weight. “You were taking _forever_ to show up but you did! On Christmas! Man, Santa is so awesome!”

Everything clicked.

No, he was exactly where he should be.

Virgil grinned as he threw off his sheets, shivering against the chill. “Do you think Santa brought us some new Disney posters?”

“Boy, do I!” Roman fell on top of him, Virgil laughed. “So _come on,_ it’s Christmas morning! Promise to tell me what my nerd brother is doing while you make pancakes!”

Virgil picked up Roman into his arms as they made their way into the rest of the house. Roman’s shrieking laughter filled his once cold body with warmth. His knees popped and his body felt utter glee to feel blood pumping through it once again. Roman helped him make pancakes even if it amounted to a messy kitchen in the end. Virgil ran his hand through Roman’s curls and thought if this wasn’t Heaven, it still sure was.

Roman’s brown eyes, so much like his father’s, brightened as Virgil handed him a cup of hot cocoa. He blew on it and sipped it carefully. Virgil turned on the TV as his son sat next to him on the old couch.

Roman turned to face Virgil. “Hey, Papa?”

“Yeah?”

“Can Dad and Logan join us next Christmas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it this far, congrats!!!
> 
> I worked on this big bang for the past seven, eight? months and I hope you really liked it!!!
> 
> Please leave a kudos and comment <33
> 
> again thank you ALL for reading this :D!


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